


The Strength Within Us

by Jess168



Series: the Auric Chronicles [1]
Category: N/A - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fantasy, Magic, Modern, Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 05:04:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14742501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jess168/pseuds/Jess168
Summary: Sometimes, secrets are better kept to one's self. But sometimes, as Mariea is quickly learning, they need to be shared for all humanity to survive. If only this had been realized sooner.The Auraes live hidden from the rest of the world. Their power, drawn from their auras, is feared by mankind. But for Mariea, it is home. It is what she is good at. After being brought to Raidenya--the island home of the Auraes--as a kid, she thought she would live a happier life. A safe life.But, when, many years down the road, she comes to power amongst the Auraes, things begin to change. As they look to her for guidance, she suddenly feels completely unprepared. This, coupled with sudden, horrific nightmares, leaves Mariea a little shaken.As she begins to realize the nightmares aren't just dreams, but some sort of warning, she turns from what she knows and goes searching in a world that isn't only uninviting, but at times openly hostile towards her. But she braves it, knowing there's limited time to find the answers. The secrets the dreams reveal may just mean life and death for everyone she's come to love...





	1. Raidenya

Chapter 1  
Raidenya

_Mariea_  
_Fire trailed after Mariea in an unnatural way, pulled along by the power of her aura. The anger boiling inside her couldn’t be contained, her grief fueling it, which in turn poured strength into her aura, making the flames burn sharp white and scorching. Lashing out, she attacked the dark shadows that surrounded her. She could feel their power trying to destroy her._  
_Noticing Bracken nearby struggling to fight off more of the shadows, she rushed towards him to assist. “Leave him alone!” she yelled out into the darkness, even as she knew it was too late and he fell with a painful scream._  
_He was the last of those she loved to fall. Her husband had always been strong, but the darkness didn’t seem to notice, claiming his life in a blink of an eye. For a moment, the world faded, sorrow engulfing her, but then anger boiled to life, forcing the weakness away, her hands clenching into fists._  
_The enraged yell that escaped her was something not of herself, but a monster finally released. With nothing left to live for, she fought like someone unafraid of death. Even as she won the fight, she lost, and as silence fell around her, she collapsed._  
Shocked awaked by the echoing whine of her alarm clock, Mariea sat disoriented for a minute before she realized what she had thought was reality was only a dream, and she had been brought back to the present.  
Sighing, she sat up and turned off the clock, and then glanced next to her, finding Bracken was still sound asleep. She let out a little sigh, relief flooding over her as she realized he was fine. Acknowledging just how much the nightmare had rattled her made her shake her head slightly. They were just dreams, why did they bother her so much? Pulling herself out of bed, she hurried to shower.  
As she prepared for the day, Mariea found herself numb to her surroundings, her mind playing the dream over and over again. It wasn’t the first one she had suffered through, and part of her felt it wouldn’t be the last. But they were getting worse, as was the feeling of dread they left behind after she woke. As much as her rational side told her differently, she was beginning to think the feeling wasn’t just the residual emotional effect from the dreams, but something more. Like a warning.  
Needing to be rid of the darkness, she walked back into the bathroom and turned on the sink. Filling her hands with the cool water, she poured it over her face, hoping it would help. Disappointingly, it was about as effective as the shower she had took a few minutes before. Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she frowned slightly. Her golden blonde hair was wild, and there were dark circles under her blue-green eyes, hinting at her exhaustion. Well, thank the stars for make-up, she thought as she reached for the bag in the cabinet next to the sink.  
After finishing in the bathroom, she quickly dressed in a pair of dark slacks and a nice blue blouse. Wandering to the kitchen, she fixed herself a bowl of cereal and joined Bracken at the table. He glanced up and gave her a smile. “Good morning,” he greeted.  
Managing a smile, she returned the greeting. His attention returned to the newspaper he was reading, leaving her alone with her thoughts and the suddenly unappealing cereal before her. She compared the dream to others she had experienced, noticing the similarities and differences with forced detachment, trying to keep herself from emotionally reacting to the dark images.  
After a moment, Bracken glanced back up again. “Are you alright?” he asked, forcing her to concentrate on reality again.  
“Yeah, I’m okay,” she reassured him with a half-smile. She bit her lip, debating if she wanted to tell him about the dreams, and then added, “It’s just…I keep having nightmares.”  
“Still? You mentioned the first a few weeks ago. Have they been happening for this long?” Bracken wondered, his brow knitting together in concern as he sat the newspaper down.  
“Yes,” Mariea admitted, even as she considered how they had been going on for much longer than Bracken knew. “That’s why I’m bringing them up again. I’m starting to think there’s more to them.”  
Bracken nodded, seeming to agree. “There has to be something. What’s triggering them?”  
Mariea shrugged as her gaze fell to her cereal again, realizing Bracken hadn’t caught on to her meaning, but she went with it. There was part of her that was reluctant to admit how much they had shook her, because that would require her to admit there was a possible problem. “I’ve been trying to figure out what it could be, but there’s literally nothing I’m dealing with to cause it. I’m not overly stressed our worried about anything in particular, nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing I haven’t already been dealing with for months now. I don’t know.”  
“Could it be that the stress is finally starting to take its toll?” Bracken mused. “There has been a lot of changes recently, it wouldn’t be that surprising.” She knew he was referring to her recent election to chairman of the governing council, a position she hadn’t expected to receive and felt slightly unqualified for, but she couldn’t see the connection herself. The dreams had started long before her election, and hadn’t changed since.  
“It can’t be that simple,” Mariea muttered, her gaze on her cereal again. She absentmindedly noted it would quickly become an unappetizing mush if she didn’t eat it soon, but the tight knot of worry in the pit of her stomach wouldn’t allow her to.  
“So…are they just random dreams?” Bracken asked, making Mariea realize she had got lost in thought again.  
“No…” Mariea replied slowly, considering what she had experienced over the past month, her gaze unfocused as she stared down at the table. “They’re too consistent, and…they aren’t just random images. They make sense. And, usually I can shake off nightmares pretty quickly, but the emotions I feel…tend to linger. Remorse. Pain. Anger. And…one that isn’t actually part of the dream, but is always there.” Meeting Bracken’s gaze, she felt it overwhelm her again even as she spoke of it. “I’m filled with dread. Dread of what, I don’t know, but I can’t shake it. Bracken, I feel like something’s coming, but I don’t know what.”  
Bracken held her gaze for a long moment in silence, and then let out a long, heavy sigh. “There’s a lot to this world we simply don’t understand. I don’t doubt that it’s possible you could be receiving some sort of warning through your dreams.” He paused, and then continued, “What do you want to do about it?”  
Mariea shook her head slightly as she gave a little shrug. “I have no idea. That’s the problem with them. They haunt me, but leave me with no clues as to what’s happening. I just…” her hand tightened into a fist on the table before her as the image of Bracken’s death returned to mind. “I can’t allow what happens in the dreams to become a reality.”  
Bracken reached out a hand and laid it on top of hers, making her realize how tense she had become, and how close she was to tears. Forcing herself to relax, she looked up to meet his gaze. “We’ll figure it out. I trust you,” he told her, smiling slightly.  
She nodded, hoping he was right.  
Suddenly her watch beeped, shattering the tense silence that had fallen over them. She barely prevented herself from jumping, raising her wrist to discover what time it was. “Oh gosh, I’ve got to go,” she exclaimed, standing in a rush. Disappearing into the bedroom again, she returned with her purse and keys, and then kissed Bracken quickly. “See you at the meeting tonight.”  
Catching her in a one armed, brief hug, he teased, “Try not to be late this time.” She rolled her eyes and smiled slightly, before slipping out the door.  
Outside, the warmth of the early spring sun caught her, making her smile slightly. Verndale sprawled below her, and she took in the city once again. The world she lived in still amazed her; it was nothing like the worn, filthy streets of the city she had been born in. The Auraes had such a way of living in balance with nature, despite their quick advances. It was something she had appreciated since first coming to the island fifteen years earlier. As she made her way to her car and started to downtown, she told herself she wouldn’t allow the nightmares to ruin her day.  
Once at the academy, Mariea was finally able to relax as she slipped back into her familiar element; her aura. She walked the familiar, pristine halls to her classroom. Though the building was older than most in the island city, it had undergone several remodels to keep it updated and in the best condition.  
The classroom was a large, rectangular space, with a wall of windows opposite the door and a whiteboard before the rows of seats, which climbed higher the farther back they went, allowing all the students to see the front of the room easily. Mariea had a desk tucked in the corner against one of the windows, and she tucked her purse and other belongings in one of the drawers, hanging her coat on the rack near the door.  
For the past five years, she had taught at the academy responsible for introducing the new generation of Auraes to their auras. Most were youth, but on rare occasion there were those that were older, brought to the island more recently after having discovered their abilities. Mariea remembered the moment when her own aura had first visibly manifested itself; in a great moment of suffering, it had come to light around her, surrounding her in a gentle aqua blue glow and surprising everyone around her. The Brotherhood—the auraless ally of the Auraes who also claimed Raidenya as their home—had come for her soon after, bringing her to the island where she belonged. Watching people who shared her scenario explore their auras always brought the memories to mind again, making her smile slightly. It had been quite the ride.  
As another class gathered, she felt the last of her stress melt away, replaced by a slight excitement that never failed to amaze her; it didn’t matter how many times she introduced the Elemental Magics to another group of students; it simply never got old.  
Moving to the front of the room, Mariea leaned against the table there and waited for the class’ attention to turn to her. As they settled down, she smiled slightly. “Today is the day you’ve all been waiting for,” she announced to start the class. “You signed up for this class with the simple understanding that you would be learning the Elemental Magics. Over the past few weeks I’ve introduced the concept of and prepared you for handling the first of these elements; fire. Now, you get to see just what it is you’re dealing with, and handle it for yourself.”  
Raising her hands before her, Mariea’s aura appeared around her, its aqua blue glow adding an extra splash of light to the classroom. It surrounded her in a thick mist, never quite touching her skin. Then, as she imagined the fire she wanted to control, it leapt to life in her outstretched palms, causing gasps of surprise to echo through the classroom. She played with it for a moment, and it followed her movements, swirling around her as the class looked on.  
After a moment, she paused in her display, gathering the fire before her again. “You’re now ready to learn to create your own fire,” she announced as the flames died. She paused, allowing the excited chatter to quiet. “First, we’ll practice with the matches I placed on the tables. Fire is easier to start with a natural fuel, but eventually you won’t need it.”  
Reaching behind her, she picked a match up for herself from the table she stood by, holding it up for the class to see as she explained, “The flame you are calling to life with this magic is something from deep inside you. When you use this magic, you harness the natural energy in your aura to light the fire, which is different than any of the other Elemental Magics—usually you take the element from your surroundings. This Magic is considered one of the purest because it comes so naturally; this is the reason I always teach it first.  
“To bring the fire to the match, you simply concentrate on the idea of heat and oxygen gathering together with the fuel to cause the right environment, and then imagine the spark that will start the fire. Imagining it while your aura is alight allows it to copy the idea, and you will find yourself with a flame.” As she said this, the match in her hand lit with a little flame on the end. “Over time, you will be able to repeat this process faster, to the point you don’t even see the steps; you just have a flame.” She paused and asked for questions. A few were voiced, and she explained further. When they came to an end, she invited, “Alright, now you can try it.”  
As the class concentrated on lighting their matches, Mariea let the flame die on the end of hers and threw the now cold stick away. Watching her students carefully, she waited in anticipation for them to discover the power of their auras and the beauty of the fire.  
A few moments passed in tense silence, but then a younger girl to one side of the classroom gasped as a small flame flickered to life on the end of the match she held. It died as quickly as it appeared, to the girl’s disappointment. Mariea smiled slightly as she approached her with another match in hand. “Good job,” she congratulated quietly. “Keep trying.”  
Fire leapt up in small flickers across the room as one by one the students managed to light their matches. Mariea smiled, proud of their success. She was also grateful the magic she had taught them to protect themselves didn’t fail when on occasion the fire got out of control.  
“This is only the beginning of Fire. Throughout the rest of the semester, we’ll explore its limits, and see just what your auras are capable of,” she informed them just before the class ended.  
The rest of the day passed in a blur, one class after another filling her room before disappearing again. Teaching at the Academy had been one of her greatest joys since mastering the elements.  
As the best part of her day ended with the last class, Mariea sighed, knowing the coming meeting was inevitable. She had hoped, after leading the people of Raidenya for a bit, things would get easier, or she would at least get used to the routine, but it almost seemed to stress her more. Now, with the ominous dreams hanging over her, she couldn’t help but feel even more anxious for the coming gathering.  
Driving through downtown Verndale, Mariea made her way across the city from the academy to the administration square near the foot of a mountain. Its rugged peaks towered over the northernmost part of the city, shadowing it for part of the day. Several smaller peaks disappeared behind it, claiming the last few miles of the island before the great drop to the ocean below.  
On the square, Mariea quickly found a place to park outside the grand marble and gold building at the center. Climbing the stairs, she passed the ancient statue of the original colonists and its accompanying sign, which declared the name of the island Raidenya and the city Verndale. Below was the date the community was established, reminding the Auraes just how long they had managed to stay hidden—and safe—from the rest of the world. The colonists stood guarding the capital building, declaring their joy for their newfound home. Mariea new well the stories of persecution that had driven the Auraes from amongst the rest of the world to settle on the small island, and felt grateful for their efforts to make it a safe haven for their descendants. She couldn’t help but relate to their story, remembering the less-than-pleasant reactions of those around her after she had discovered her aura.  
Passing through the doors of the capital building, Mariea glanced around the crowd of busy men and women. Just beyond the doors was a row of the city’s peacekeepers, called Sentinels. Passing through them, she allowed her aura to be visible, knowing the Sentinels would recognize its distinct signature and allow her to pass.  
Beyond them, she headed up the grand staircase across from the entrance. At the top, two sentinels opened the large, heavy wooden doors to the grand council room beyond. Inside were several familiar faces. Their conversations briefly paused as Mariea entered and took her place in the center of the u-shaped table. Ila sat on her right, and Gavin on her left, with Bracken next to him. Misha sat at the end of the table next to Bracken, her head bowed over a stack of papers. Jocelyn entered the room, adjusting the sleeves of her crisp Sentinel uniform. She claimed the seat next to Ila, nodding in greeting to the other two women.  
Across from Bracken and Misha were two empty chairs. Mariea sighed when she noticed them. Glancing at Ila, she asked, “Samar isn’t here again?”  
The other woman nodded in confirmation, a strand of her thick, dark curls slipping lose with the motion to hang along the side of her face. “Once again, he left us a note informing us, still with no explanation.” Though her voice remained neutral, Mariea could see the hint of annoyance in her golden eyes.  
With a shrug, Mariea muttered, “I guess he can’t complain when we make decisions without him that affects the Brotherhood.”  
“Oh you know he will,” Ila promised. Mariea nodded with a weary smile, knowing all too well how difficult the Brotherhood leader could be.  
The rest of the group gathered, and Mariea glanced around the room, taking in everyone quietly. It still made her stomach flop with nerves as she considered they would all be looking to her for the final decision for the entire city. It didn’t matter how many times they had waited for her to make a decision. It was still just as nerve wracking. It makes sense; it’s not like I wanted this position anyway, she thought, not for the first time. The election she had won hadn’t been one she had volunteered for. The Auraes believed everyone owed the community at least part of their time, and anyone could be called on to fill a public calling. Apparently they had believed she had some sort of leader abilities, enough so to call on her to lead them, but Mariea found herself highly doubting their judgement had been accurate.  
But, there was no escaping it. She would do her time, and then pass on the position to someone more qualified. Steeling her nerves, she cleared her throat, catching everyone’s attention again. “Alright, let’s get started.”  
One by one, the council members reported on events under their individual jurisdiction. Mariea was happy to hear the city continued to run mostly unhindered, and some of the problems they had sought out to fix over the past few weeks were minimizing.  
When it was Misha’s turn to report, the old Medic stayed quiet for a moment, and then sighed as she tucked a graying strand of hair behind her ear. “Research for faster magic to heal broken bones began this week,” she reported, her tone forcefully light, her gaze skimming over the group but not settling on anyone in particular. “That seems to be going well, but slowly.”  
“Did the base I gave you work well enough?” Bracken wondered. He spent a decent amount of time helping others create spells for their various needs using the ‘bases’ he had created; they were the basics of the spell, able to adapt quickly to their individual purposes. It cut the time of producing the spell in half, and made them more effective.  
Misha gave a small nod as she turned to him. “We did run into one problem though. Maybe you would have some insight about it.” Her lavender aura appeared around her, and quickly she built a spell before the group for them to see. Mariea could see the complicated intricacies to the spell, knowing just underneath its surface were the building blocks only Misha could see; complicated equations written in a language spoken only by a few, known simply as Shidokian. Every spell was slightly different, and the more complicated it got, the more required equations it took to build. They weren’t Mariea’s favorite, but Bracken excelled at them.  
“Here,” Misha started again as she paused in her crafting. “When the last layer of the healing spell is combined with the specific need for broken bones, the connection to the base weakens suddenly, making the spell unstable.”  
“Hmm. I think I see what’s happening,” Bracken muttered, a hand on his chin, his brow furrowed in thought. “I’ll stop by the hospital tonight and see what I can do to help.”  
Misha nodded, looking grateful, but her smile faded as quickly as it had come. Her gaze returned to her notes before she spoke again. “There’s something else I should mention…” she paused, seeming reluctant to continue. Mariea realized whatever the matter was, it was very serious; Misha saw the worst the world could dish out in her role of keeping everyone healthy and in-tact, so for something to shake her this much, it would have to be very serious. Mariea swallowed, hoping her comrade wouldn’t be able to see her nervousness.  
Finally, she continued, all pretense of pleasantness fading, her voice cold. “There have been several deaths of Auraes the past month from a similar but unexplainable cause. I bring it up because it’s happening more and more frequently. It’s not caused by disease from what I can tell. Their auras are drained away, obviously leaving them dead. There are usually signs of a struggle when the body is found, but nothing to indicate what attacked them or what it did to eliminate their auras. All I know was it was fast, and it was almost as if they had been hunted. I’m assuming whatever it was stole their aura for some reason and in some way.”  
“It’s not Tarapor related, is it?” Gavin asked almost immediately. He seemed to always assume it was caused by the pests the Auraes dealt with in the surrounding forested areas of the island. Mariea couldn’t blame him—the creatures were annoying— but she often found herself doubting they were capable of some of the things he placed on them.  
Misha shrugged. “At first I immediately ruled it out; none of the characteristic signs of a Tarapor attack were present. But at this point, I’m almost tempted to consider it. Maybe it’s a new strain of Tarapor?”  
“Could a new strain just develop like that?” Mariea asked. She knew very little of the disease causing the Tarapor’s existence.  
With a small nod, Misha explained, “It’s possible, I assume. Maybe over time, the virus mutated. The only reason why I doubt it is because it’s never happened before, but that doesn’t rule it out as impossible.”  
“I wonder if the Brotherhood knows about it,” Bracken mused, glancing towards the empty seats.  
“If attacks are happening more frequently, and they are caused by some sort of mutated Tarapor, that means the Brotherhood isn’t controlling them anymore. We need to step in,” Ila stated, looking determined. Mariea knew her old friend had a lot against the Brotherhood, for reasons she would never understand.  
“You know there’s nothing we can do about the Tarapor,” she reminded Ila. “They’d kill anyone we sent. We have to trust the Brotherhood to handle it.”  
“Isn’t it slightly worrisome they’ve missed the past four meetings, in accordance with these mysterious attacks?” Jocelyn pointed out. “Maybe things have gotten out of hand.”  
Mariea had to admit she had a point. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to send someone to their headquarters to make sure there isn’t more of a reason for their lack of communication,” she admitted.  
“I could go,” Gavin offered. “I’ve been itching to get out there anyway.” Mariea knew it was because his sister was a member of the Brotherhood, and he rarely got to see her.  
The council nodded in agreement. “You’re there only to make sure the Brotherhood is still functioning. We can’t get involved with the Tarapor,” Mariea reminded him as she met his gaze.  
“Will do,” Gavin agreed with an acknowledging not to Mariea’s command. “I’ll leave tomorrow.”

__

Mefune  
“So, Mefune, why do we use swords? I mean, why use such old-fashioned techniques when there’s a lot better options out there?” the boy asked.  
Mefune glanced at him. The boy, Aron, couldn’t be more than twelve, but he was smart, Mefune had noticed. But his intelligence made him arrogant. His tone was almost flippant as he spoke with Mefune, despite the fact he was at least eight years the boy’s senior, and one of the highest ranking members of the Brotherhood. Mefune knew all too well his cocky attitude would have gotten him into trouble with others, but he was more patient with the newcomers than most. Still, Aron had the amazing ability to annoy even Mefune.  
I asked for this though, he reminded himself, reflecting on his request at the announcement of the match for a younger member to assist him in preparing. It wasn’t like he needed the help, but he liked to keep tabs on the newest recruits, to see what the future generation of the Brotherhood was shaping out to be. Menial tasks such as what he had recruited Aron for was an easy way to get a chance to speak with them without letting their interaction go to their heads.  
Turning back to preparing the sword in his hand, Mefune answered, “Because modern weapons are useless against Tarapor.”  
“Why?” the boy pestered.  
“Their auras, though destroyed by the disease that made them what they are, naturally repel everything other than the metal our weapons are made with, and even then projectile weapons made with it have little to no effect. So we stick with what we know works until something better comes along,” Mefune explained.  
Aron seemed to consider this for a moment, granting Mefune a few minutes of silence. He continued his work, cleaning an already spotless sword, his gaze passing over the length of the blade. It was long, with a gentle curve that was almost imperceptible, and so thin when turned vertical it was almost hard to see. The edge was incredibly sharp, and even as he cleaned it, it caught the edge of the rag he was using and added yet another rip to it. Setting it down, he picked up the second blade, which was a perfect reflection of the first, the other half of a symmetrical object. When pressed together, the two blades actually became one, merging to make a slightly heavier weapon for when sparring against other weapons. Though the weapon was old, it still looked freshly made, hinting at the magic that allowed it to function and maintained it.  
“Didn’t the Auraes teach you these things back in Verndale?” Mefune asked, breaking the boy from his thoughts.  
Aron shrugged. “No. They focused mostly on those with auras, and since I don’t have one…” he shrugged, and then fell silent.  
Not wanting to let Aron dwell on the topic in an attempt to draw sympathy from Mefune, he diverted his attention by instructing, “Go keep tabs on things, let me know when Altaira’s ready.”  
“Do I have to?” Aron whined. Mefune didn’t answer, but raised an eyebrow and gave him a pointed look, making it clear he expected the boy to follow orders. Eventually, Aron left, leaving Mefune alone.  
As he was pulling on fingerless gloves, Garrett, a member of the Brotherhood Council, walked in. Garrett was close to Mefune in age, with light brown hair and steel-gray eyes. He was the type of person that treated everyone like his closest friend, but Mefune saw through the charade; he liked to gather information, to use it against others in the future to better his position. It was partly how he had made his way to being part of the Council. Mefune was careful never to divulge anything, but when he was sure Garrett wasn’t attempting to gain some sort of advantage over him, he didn’t mind the other man’s company. He was a good fighter, and a competent leader, and they shared opinions on many topics.  
“Hey, good luck out here,” he commented as he approached. He moved to lean against the table Mefune stood at, crossing his arms against his chest. “Think you’ll win?”  
Without hesitation, Mefune replied, “I know I’ll win.”  
Garrett looked surprised and then smirked slightly. “Somebody’s confident. You that sure you’ll win?” Mefune nodded simply. He had said it, there was no backing down now. “I don’t know, I’ve seen her fight. She’s pretty good. What makes you so sure?”  
“I’ve seen her fight as well. She is good, but not unstoppable. I’ll win,” Mefune assured him. He wasn’t trying to be cocky or overconfident, he just knew he was good at what he did. There weren’t many who could match his natural talent, and combined with the amount he practiced, it put him well ahead almost all the members of the Brotherhood. Most saw him as quite the prodigy; despite being young, and being born outside the Brotherhood’s ranks, guaranteeing a late start, he had climbed the ranks quickly.  
“You want to win?” Garrett wondered. He knew of Mefune’s original reluctance to involve himself in the politics.  
Mefune considered how best to answer, before shrugging slightly. “I have no objections to being part of the Council.”  
“So you are a bit ambitious after all,” Garrett teased. When Mefune didn’t respond, he snorted, sounding annoyed he hadn’t gotten a reaction.  
“Mefune?” a voice asked from behind. He turned to see Aron had returned. “Altaira’s ready. The fight can begin once you enter the ring.”  
Mefune nodded, and sheathed his sword. “Well, I guess I’ll see you on the other side again. I’d wish you luck again, but it seems you won’t need it,” Garrett teased.  
This time, Mefune allowed the faintest of a smirk before following Aron out of the small preparation room. He stepped out into a large, open, circular arena. The ground was sandy, easy to slip in if you weren’t expecting it, but Mefune was so used to fighting in sand-filled practice circles the transition didn’t even faze him. He glanced up at the stands surrounding the circle. They were filled to overflowing with the Brotherhood, who waited silently for the fight to begin, the tension audible in the air.  
Across the circle, a woman about Mefune’s age stood confidently, her hand resting lightly on the hilt of a sword strapped to her waist. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a tight braid, and she wore flexible, dark clothing, perfect for fighting in. Her dark violet eyes followed him as he moved to stand opposite her, his stance relaxed. He was more than ready for this fight—he had known intuitively their almost subconscious contest wouldn’t be able to remain as such, so he had made sure he was familiar with her fighting style to prepare himself for when the moment came.  
They were about to battle for a place on the Brotherhood Council, and not only any spot, but the chair for Raidenya itself, giving whoever holds it ultimate authority over the island headquarters when the whole Council wasn’t present. Recently Creta had passed away from a long struggle with an illness, leaving the spot up for grabs.  
Tradition had it that the Council members could choose their successor, but anyone who thought they were good enough could challenge for the position. Creta had appointed Mefune, as he had expected. Altaira hadn’t hesitated to challenge him, as he had guessed she would. She wouldn’t pass up the chance to take power, but Mefune wasn’t about to hand it to her. He had just as many reasons for wanting the position as she did.  
Samar, the senior member of the Brotherhood Council and the council head, stepped into the circle, his brown eyes studying the two as they approached him. “You both know the rules. Fight fair, no acting on murderous intentions. Good luck to the both of you,” he told them. They nodded. Stepping back a few steps, he yelled, “Draw swords!”  
Mefune drew his sword and slipped into a fighting stance as Altaira reached for her own weapon. Once Samar stepped out of the circle, the fight began. Altaira rushed at Mefune and swung her blade at him. Obviously eager to win, she attacked fast and hard, pushing Mefune to maintain his defenses. He found himself delighted by how much her skills forced him to try; rarely amongst the Brotherhood did he find someone who could keep up with him.  
Once she came pretty close to cornering him, but he quickly slipped out of her grasp. She didn’t give him a single moment to rest, immediately following his escape with more attacks. She’s good, Mefune had to admit, at least to himself. I can see why Garrett questioned me. He also realized that rarely did the Brotherhood get to see him fight all out, so they didn’t know what to expect from him.  
Deciding it was time to push his advantage, after deflecting a couple more of her blows, he pushed the first hole in her defenses that he saw, and suddenly the battle switched favors. Now on the defensive, Altaira frowned slightly but continued to match his attacks with her own strength.  
After she parried one of his blows, it loosened her grip on her blade, and Mefune realized he had a chance to win if he disarmed her. Splitting his sword with a quick flick, he locked them around her blade and then pulled, yanking it from her grasp. It tumbled to the ground a few feet to his left.  
Blinking in surprise, Altaira backed up, but her confusion only lasted a fraction of a second. Unwilling to give up yet, she dove for the sword, but Mefune was faster. Just after her hand wrapped around the hilt of her sword, Mefune was in front of her, his sword point pressed against her neck. If it had been a real fight, she would have been dead. Triumph filled Mefune and he allowed a small smirk as Samar called the match.  
Altaira let go of the sword again, standing slowly, and Mefune backed off. After sheathing his own weapon he retrieved her sword and returned it to her. Altaira reclaimed the blade, clearly barely resisting the urge to rip it from his grasp. They were swept up in celebrations afterward. Mefune quickly forgot about Altaira, his victory and the party around him his only focus. 

Altaira  
Leaving the arena, Altaira and Mefune were escorted by the crowd to the dining hall, Mefune surrounded by well-wishers, and Altaira left to sulk in her defeat. The grand room echoed with the buzzing excitement of the group as they entered. Altaira didn’t follow, too angered to even consider going to the party. She left the group behind, heading down a different hallway towards the living quarters.  
She stormed into her apartment, throwing her sword and sheath on the couch across from the door. She ran her hands through her hair, pulling half of it free from the braid. When it snarled around her fingers annoyingly, she yanked the ponytail out and allowed her hair to fall the rest of the way free, chucking the band into some dark corner of her room. She paced a minute, trying to contain her anger, but her mind kept playing the battle over and over again, refusing to let her forget.  
After a few moments of oppressive silence, a knock came at her door. “What?” she snapped, whirling towards the door.  
“It’s Daya. Can I come in?” a voice asked softly from the other side.  
Sighing, Altaira moved to the door and allowed her friend in. Once she moved across the threshold, Altaira shut the door again, with more force than intended; it rattled in the frame with an echoing bang. Flipping around to face Daya, Altaira threw her hands in the air as she exclaimed, “I lost!” As if it wasn’t already obvious.  
“I know. I’m sorry,” Daya attempted, trying to soother her. “We’ll figure something else out.”  
“No, we won’t! Creta was the oldest member of the Council. The rest are healthy and young, and unless something goes wrong, they won’t be giving up their spots anytime soon. Now I have no chance of joining the Council,” Altaira snapped. Suddenly a wild idea came to mind. “I’ll just kill him. That’ll solve this.”  
“Altaira, calm down, you’re being ridiculous,” Daya commanded, raising her hands in a placating gesture. “You can’t kill him.”  
Altaira snorted. “Yeah, I know. I can’t even beat him in a duel. If I went after him for real, I’d be dead in a few minutes.” She found herself pacing again.  
“That’s not what I meant,” Daya muttered. “You can’t kill him because there’s laws against that.” She sighed. “You’ll find another way.”  
“No, I won’t,” Altaira insisted. Through her anger, she felt a spark of grief as her father came to mind. She had never met him that she could remember, but he was the reason for all of her efforts to come into power amongst the Brotherhood. After hearing his story from her mother, she had sworn to avenge his wrongful death, which had been caused by corrupt former leaders of the Brotherhood. She had thought, with her natural skills, she would easily be able to climb the ranks and with that influence change so no one would ever have to suffer the same injustices he had. But to her annoyance, Mefune had always gotten in her way.  
He had joined not long after she had. After meeting Mefune, she hadn’t worried much about him; he was scrawny and nervous, a stark contrast against Altaira’s confidence. She had almost pitied him, wondering if he would make it anywhere in the competitive world that was the Brotherhood. Soon she started to impress her trainer and even those ranking high above them, and her success began to take shape.  
But, to her surprise, she found she wasn’t alone in her success; Mefune had kept with her, even surpassed her, in everything she did. As she grew in strength and skills, he did as well, to the point that Altaira found herself falling behind. It wasn’t long before her superiors had shifted their focus from her to him, almost forgetting Altaira in the process. Suddenly he wasn’t just the scrawny blond boy, but a very skilled, well-known fighter amongst the Brotherhood, and she his shadow, nothing more than the second best. It was infuriating to think that once again she stuck playing the shadow as he stole the spot she had worked so hard to gain.  
As Altaira exclaimed her disgust again, her anger returning, Daya sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Maybe I’ll give you time to cool down. We can talk later.” She moved towards the door, but paused and glanced back, a concerned look in her brown eyes. “Just… don’t do anything stupid, okay?” she asked.  
Altaira sighed, melting onto the couch next to her forgotten sword. “I won’t,” she grumbled. Unsatisfied, Daya hesitated, before giving in and leaving Altaira alone to sulk.

The next morning, Altaira grudgingly dragged herself to the council room, this time allowing herself to gather with the crowd. She knew she was required to attend the upcoming meeting, but it took all of her willpower to do so; the last thing she wanted to do was watch Mefune claim his victory.  
The council was already there, the six of them sitting at the front of the room in a long row, one empty chair in their midst. They waited quietly for the Brotherhood to fill into the long rows of seats that filled the first half of the room. Glancing over the crowd, Altaira found Daya, after her gaze passed over Mefune sitting near the back of the room. Suppressing her disgust, she passed by him without looking at him and claimed a seat next to Daya. Her friend glanced at her. “I’m surprised you’re here,” she admitted.  
“I have to be,” Altaira muttered as she slouched in her seat, crossing her arms before her.  
“I know. I’m still surprised,” Daya insisted.  
“Believe it or not even I have to follow the rules. Especially now,” Altaira said with a frown. “It wouldn’t look good if I refused to be a part of the ceremony.”  
Daya shrugged. “I guess,” she admitted as her gaze turned back to the front of the room.  
Samar stood, and their conversation died as did the rest of the quiet discussions. He stood in silence for a minute before beginning, “Brothers, we gather to honor Creta’s passing, and to sustain his successor.” He paused for a brief moment and then continued. “Creta was a great man, a friend to all who belonged to this great Brotherhood, and an accomplished fighter. His talents and leadership skills will be missed, but not as much as his company. May he rest well.”  
The Brotherhood muttered their agreement, subdued slightly by the memory of their fallen leader. But there was a small part of them that was resigned to the fact that his passing hadn’t been unexpected—the fact that he had lived to old age at all was amazing, something that few accomplished. They lived a dangerous life, constantly fighting the Tarapor.  
As silence fell over the crowd again, Samar invited Mefune forward with a gesture. The younger man made the long walk down to the front of the room, his ceremonial attire flowing around him, his posture oozing confidence. As he reached the floor of the room, Samar presented him with a small, carved wooden box. He opened it to reveal a ring, with a dark amethyst gem in the center. The band was smooth, unadorned metal, waiting for Mefune’s own customization. It was tradition for the Council to wear similar rings to signify their position. The bands were decorated over time with symbols of their greatest accomplishments.  
“With this gift,” Samar continued, “I commend you for your skills. You have sworn your life to the Brotherhood, and now as you take on this new responsibility, I hope you can continue to promote the values Creta held to, and the values of this order. Will you promise to serve the Brotherhood and honor your calling?”  
“I will,” Mefune agreed. With that, Samar allowed him to take the ring, and then he moved to stand next to Mefune as he turned to face the crowd. “All in favor of sustaining Mefune to his new role, show by the raise of hand,” Samar invited.  
The Brotherhood did as invited. Altaira reluctantly joined them, not wanting to so forwardly show her resistance. “Any opposed?” Samar asked. Nobody raised their hands. It wasn’t like they could have a say to who would claim the spot. The sustaining was simply to show they were willing to support the new leader. The offering to show that you opposed was just a formality.  
Samar nodded, and then gestured to one of the two empty Council seats. Mefune claimed his seat with the rest of the council, and the Brotherhood was dismissed. Altaira slinked away, grateful to escape.

Mefune  
Life became a whirlwind of events over the next few days. Mefune found himself busier than he had ever been, but he enjoyed the faster pace. Once he started to understand his role more, it became easy for him to keep on top of things.  
On a slower night, he found himself alone in the dining hall, picking at his dinner, deep in thought. Suddenly Garrett appeared across from him, claiming one of the empty seats at the table. “Well, how’s the new job suiting you?” he asked, swirling the drink he had brought with him as he talked.  
“I’m enjoying myself. It’s a little hectic, but it’s good,” Mefune answered honestly.  
“I figured you would be fine with it,” Garrett agreed with a nod. He paused for a minute, and then asked, “What do you think of the other council members?”  
Mefune met his gaze, wondering what it was he was looking for. There was something about the look in his dark gaze that made him wonder if there weren’t more to his comment, but he could only guess what. Eventually he replied simply, “Not sure yet.”  
Garrett nodded, but the look in his eyes didn’t fade. “Some of them are alright. But I would be careful of Samar and Darius. I don’t trust them.”  
Mefune nodded slowly. So this is what he really wants to talk about, he mused. “Why?”  
Garrett glanced around, obviously making sure there wasn’t anyone close enough to overhear. Lucky for him, Mefune had chosen an isolated table that night, far from the bustling crowds near the bar.  
Then he turned back to Mefune and met his gaze again. “They’re planning something. Darius is an idiot, but for some reason Samar likes him. They have other friends, from off the island, that seem to be in on it. They mostly don’t bother anyone if they don’t push their luck.” He paused long enough to take a long swig of the drink in his hand before continuing. “They won’t like you. You’re too bold, and you won’t let them push you around. People like you, they don’t last long.”  
“What do you mean?” Mefune pressed.  
Garrett glanced away, looking a bit remorseful. “I don’t think it was disease that claimed Creta’s life.”  
“What then?”  
“Poison.” Garrett stated it so matter-of-factly, Mefune knew he wasn’t just making it up on the spot. He had seen it. It honestly made more sense to Mefune then Creta dying of disease anyway—the older man had spent a good portion of his life serving the Auraes as a Medic, and mere diseases were easy for him to treat. But, if he hadn’t known he was poisoned and couldn’t trace it back to the source, it could have been possible for it to claim him before he found a solution.  
“And he wasn’t the only one,” Garrett added. This comment sounded like a warning, as if he wanted to make sure Mefune understood Creta also wouldn’t be the last if he wasn’t careful.  
“I see,” Mefune muttered, his expression kept carefully neutral, despite the tight not of dread that settled in his stomach. “I’ll keep an eye on them.” He paused, considering the information Garrett had given him, and then asked, “Why are you telling me this?”  
Garrett shrugged with a small smile, almost ruthless smile. “Mostly so you know I’m not involved.” With that, he gulped down the last of his drink, slammed the empty cup down on the table, and stood. “Nice talking with you. See you around.”  
Before he could get far, a man approached and informed them Samar was waiting for the Council to gather. “A meeting wasn’t planned for tonight. Has something come up?” Garrett asked, looking surprised.  
“I wasn’t given any details,” the man replied with a small shrug. “He just told me to find and inform the council members.” Garrett glanced to Mefune, and the two shared a knowing look; a spontaneous meeting was only called when something had happened, usually something bad.  
“Well, guess we better get going then,” Mefune decided as he stood.  
When they arrived, they took their seats as the rest of the Council joined them. Glancing at the others with him, Mefune quickly noticed Darius was scowling at the ground, and Samar seemed a bit upset too. It also surprised him to realize there were a few members from beyond Raidenya. It was so rare for those scattered throughout the world to come back to the hidden island because their movements could easily draw attention the Auraes didn’t want. Obviously, whatever this is, it’s important, he thought.  
Samar began the meeting with a huff. “There was an Aurae here earlier, with news from the city. Verndale is unhappy.”  
“Why?” Desiree asked, sounding confused. Mefune couldn’t help but feel the same; with Creta’s death and the subsequent events, Samar had been forced to miss the meetings in Verndale, leaving them with little news of what was happening amongst the Auraes.  
“They think we aren’t keeping the Tarapor under control,” Samar grumbled. “There have been recent deaths among the Auraes, and they’re blaming us.”  
Mefune’s brow furrowed, wondering where this had come from. The Auraes relied on the Brotherhood to control the diseased monsters because their Magics had no effect on them. They had always been very grateful for what the Brotherhood did. He couldn’t help but doubt they would risk jeopardizing the relationship they had with the Brotherhood by angering the Council. In the past, they had understood any surges in Tarapor attacks, knowing their task wasn’t an easy one. When Garrett muttered something along the same lines as Mefune’s thoughts, he realized he wasn’t alone in his wondering.  
Samar nodded, obviously agreeing. “Usually that would be the case, but there have been close to twenty people dead. They’re so frenzied they’re quick to blame us.” He scowled. “I’ve never liked working for them. They take advantage of us, with little more than words of gratitude in return.”  
“I can’t understand how Tarapor are the cause of these deaths,” Ezequiel exclaimed. “We cleared them out near the city. The only ones left are so deep in the forest we don’t even bother with them unless they venture closer.”  
“I don’t think these attacks were done by Tarapor either, but the Aurae was insistent,” Samar agreed.  
“So what do we do about this?” Darius ventured.  
Samar sighed, sounding reluctant. “I don’t know that there is anything we can do. We’ll just have to do what we can to reassure them we’re still doing our job, and hope they don’t retaliate in their anger.” He paused for a minute. “Let’s send out two extra patrols every day until things calm down. Send them near the city. That’ll guarantee there aren’t any Tarapor near Verndale, and allow the Auraes to see us working. Have them make a point to enter the city.”  
The others agreed, and the word was spread among the Brotherhood as new assignments went out. As the changes took effect, Mefune could feel a bit of tension from the decision; the Brotherhood was already stretched thin, trying to keep the whole world safe from the Tarapor. Many blamed the Auraes for their troubles, and Mefune couldn’t help but notice Samar and Darius seemed to encourage it, as well as some of the visiting council members.  
One day, Samar approached Mefune. “We need to talk for a moment,” he informed Mefune.  
Surprised by Samar’s forwardness, Mefune simply nodded. Samar led him to his office in a more secluded area of the cave-like fortress the Brotherhood headquarters was located in. Once alone, Samar seemed suddenly angry.  
“The Auraes have threatened sanctions if we don’t stop the attacks. I’m certain now it isn’t the Tarapor that are attacking them, but they won’t listen to me. I’m sick of this,” he grumbled.  
“You said it yourself though, there’s nothing we can do about it,” Mefune reminded him.  
“But there is one thing,” Samar countered, turning to face him, a dangerous glint in his eye. “There’s no reason we should answer to the Aurae’s every whim. They’re reliant on us, and they should be more grateful.” He paused. “I’ve been talking to other members of the Council, and they agree, we need to do what we can to alter the relationship to our favor. But I don’t want to make any decisions before talking to the whole Council.”  
“Why don’t you just call them together then?” Mefune asked.  
“Because I don’t want it spreading that we’re having this discussion until I’m sure it’s where we’re going to go.” He paused, eyeing Mefune, and then asked, “What would be your opinion on this?”  
Mefune considered it for a moment, remembering Garrett’s words. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was what he had referred to. “I just want what’s best for the Brotherhood,” he replied vaguely. “If this is what the Council decides is best, then I’ll back you.”  
Samar nodded, seeming satisfied. “You’re a smart man, Mefune. I’m glad to have your assistance,” he commented.  
“Like you said, I swore to serve the Brotherhood. That’s what I intend to do,” he replied. “Let me know if anything changes.”  
As the two parted ways, Mefune found Garrett hovering nearby. As soon as Samar was gone, he hurried to fall into step next to Mefune. “He talked to you too, huh?”  
“Yes,” Mefune replied, even though it was pretty obvious Garrett was right.  
“He approached me like that months ago. It’s when I first started suspecting him. I simply told him I wouldn’t hurt or help his cause, hoping he would keep me out of it. He hasn’t talked to me since.”  
“So he’s been gathering support before this deal with the Auraes?” Mefune asked.  
“It’s definitely been going on a lot longer than that. He’s just using this new development as a cover story,” Garrett guessed. After a pause, he asked, “What did you tell him?”  
“I basically lead him to believe I might be willing to help him,” Mefune informed him.  
“Hmm.” Garrett seemed to consider this for a moment, and then told him, “Maybe you can use this to find out more about what he’s planning.”  
“I could. What does it matter though?” Mefune asked. He couldn’t help but wonder what Garrett’s motives were.  
“I don’t want to see the Brotherhood crumble over his stupidity,” Garrett responded, sounding annoyed by it all. “I figured you wouldn’t either.”  
“You’re not wrong there. I’m just not sure how we would go about stopping him,” Mefune pointed out.  
“You’re resourceful; you’ll figure it out,” Garrett told him with a slight shrug.  
“That sounds as if you aren’t willing to help,” Mefune speculated, his gaze narrowing slightly.  
“I may or may not be. I guess it depends on what it would require of me to do. But I definitely won’t help Samar. I can guarantee that much,” Garrett promised.  
“Hmm. Well, when I learn more, I’ll keep you informed so you can make a decision,” Mefune offered.  
“I would appreciate that,” Garrett agreed. “Good luck.” With that, he turned away, walking down a different hall. 

After considering his options for a while, Mefune decided it was best to wait for Samar to approach him, hoping he would decide to trust him. He was careful to do all he could to subtly invite Samar to trust him and show his loyalty to him. It wasn’t hard to play the older man, though sometimes Mefune took that as a warning instead of a good thing. He found himself more on edge than he had been in a long while. Luckily, it was easy to blame any negative effects it seemed to have on him on the stress of his new job.  
Finally, Samar asked to talk to him again in private. “So what have you decided?” Mefune asked, deciding to be straightforward.  
“Have you been thinking about what I asked of you?” Samar questioned, ignoring Mefune’s comment.  
“Yes. I told you already I would back you if the Council comes to agree with what you’re saying is necessary,” Mefune reminded him.  
“Hmm. The Council mostly favors me, but there are those who don’t. A few. Even without a unanimous vote, I still intend to act,” Samar informed him.  
“You would go behind the council?” Mefune asked carefully, making it clear he wasn’t accusing Samar, simply wondering what his motives were.  
Samar stared at him for a long moment in silence, and then let out a tired sigh. Suddenly he looked a hundred years older. “I’m tired of this struggle, Mefune. I want nothing more than to see the success of the Brotherhood. If the Auraes are going to stand in my way, I will do anything necessary.”  
Mefune nodded slowly. Thinking quickly, he told him, “That’s what we have in common. I’m willing to help. What is it that you’re going to do?”  
Samar smiled slightly, looking relieved. “I have a plan. Something I’ve been working on for a while,” Samar admitted. “If the Auraes see just what it would be like if we allow the Tarapor to run rampant through Verndale, I think they would be more willing to answer to our demands.”  
“So you mean we’re going to stop protecting the city?” Mefune asked.  
“No, not entirely. If we stop fighting the Tarapor altogether their numbers will grow to overwhelming sizes and we’ll never get control of the situation again. Besides, that would only succeed in making us look incompetent in the eyes of the Auraes. But if we capture a small group and let them loose in the city, they’d have a heyday on Verndale Then, I would go to Mariea before the attack and ensure that she knew of our part in it. I would force her to agree to uphold a new bargain—one where we hold all the cards—or watch her people die.”  
The thought of so many dying made Mefune sick, but he forced himself not to react, his expression kept carefully neutral. “That could work,” he admitted, sounding slightly hopeful. “But that would leave a lot of blood on your hands. Are you sure you would want that?” he asked.  
“I’m willing to do whatever it takes to further the success of the Brotherhood. Are you?” Samar questioned, meeting Mefune’s gaze.  
“Of course,” Mefune agreed, suppressing the shiver that ran down his spine. Apparently Samar was more power hungry than he thought, and willing to kill to get what he wanted.  
“You’re certain they’re completely defenseless against the Tarapor?” He asked after a moment, forcing himself to stay on topic.  
“Yes,” Samar confirmed. “Even if they had the weapons needed, it’s too dangerous for them to risk using them because of the reaction they could have with their auras. They’re completely unprepared for an attack like this.”  
Mefune nodded again, taking all this into consideration. It was the beginnings of a plan, but not a very good one. Deciding it was best to play along and see what he could do to stop it, he told Samar, “What do you need me to do?”  
Samar smiled, a glint of triumph in his dark eyes. “I need you to capture some Tarapor for me.”


	2. the Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously: Mariea learns of a series of mysterious deaths from Misha, a member of the leading body of the Auraes. Gavin is sent to inquire of the Brotherhood if they know anything about it since their representatives have been repeatedly absent from council meetings.  
> Meanwhile, Altaira and Mefune dueled for a seat on the Brotherhood Council. Mefune won. Altaira is upset by it, as she believed it to be her last opportunity to seek vengeance for her father's wrongful death.

Chapter 2  
The Dream  
Mariea

Mariea floated in a white expanse of nothingness, a passive numbness settling over her mind and body. Somewhere in the back of her mind she vaguely remembered falling asleep, but reality and all of its problems seemed a million miles away. Willing to allow them to stay that way, Mariea sighed contentedly. Despite the fact that she had felt herself sigh, not a sound emanated from her. It was amazing to Mariea just how quiet it was; like a forest caught in the grasp of a heavy, slow snowfall, the lack of sound was obvious but not unwanted. Settling into the idea of just relaxing, Mariea’s eyes drooped, but before she had the chance to completely slip away, a gentle light pulsed to life to her left.  
Blinking, she turned to it, her curiosity piqued by its sudden appearance. Wanting to move towards it, she took a step forward, but found no matter how hard or fast she moved her feet, she stayed in the same spot.  
Just as she began to be frustrated, she realized when she held still and thought of moving, she started to slowly float towards her destination. Puzzled by the strange oppositeness of the realization, Mariea waited as she floated forward.  
Finally, she reached the light, and slowly reached out a hand for it, before hesitating. She was content to stay in the problem free void, and part of her worried the orb would be the way out. But the longer she stared at the light, the more curious she became, and eventually, she gave in, reaching out to touch its surprisingly smooth surface.  
Warmth spread from her hand into her body as her fingers passed through its surface, making her realize how cold she was. Streams of color suddenly burst from the ball of light, slowly filling the void with life. Mariea stared as a picture slowly formed before her; first, she could make out a blurry silhouette surrounded by a cream and gold landscape. Eventually, the image of a woman appeared before her, but her backdrop remained blurry as if purposefully blotted out.  
The woman seemed to finally take solid form, and then she turned her blue gaze on Mariea. She was taller than Mariea and had an ageless quality to her, as if time seemed to have no effect on her. There was a definite sadness to the deep blue of her eyes, and the bittersweet tilt of her half-smile. Dressed in a long white gown that trailed behind her, her golden brown hair stood out against the silk fabric as it trailed down her back. Mariea couldn’t help but notice the similarities between herself and the woman before her; though the woman’s eyes were a bit darker, they had the same blue-green tint, and her facial structure was surprisingly similar, with the same narrow nose, square jaw, and low cheekbones.  
“The past has been forgotten, but it needs to be remembered,” the woman stated.  
“What?” Mariea wondered, confused by her statement. Suddenly the woman disappeared, replaced by flashes from Mariea’s nightmares, but now it was the woman in the images, fighting for her life.  
“You have to come to my home,” the woman stated as she reappeared. “You must learn of what happened.”  
“Where is your home?” Mariea wondered, still bewildered.  
“Follow the dreams. They will guide you. Trust in what you see,” the woman told her. She disappeared again, replaced by glimpses of familiar streets. Realizing the images were of New York, realization dawned.  
“You want me to come to New York?” Mariea wondered.  
The woman seemed to miss what Mariea had asked. “Please hurry. Time is short, and everything depends on it,” she warned. “You must learn of the prison.” Everything slowly faded to black, but not before Mariea noticed flashes of the same haunting images around her.  
Jolting up in bed, Mariea quickly scanned her surroundings, hoping to see the woman, but as she took in her room she realized the dream was over. Sighing, she rubbed a hand over her face, laying back down. She mulled the dream over and over again in her head, wondering what dark crevice of her mind it had come from. It was a pleasant change to the nightmares of the nights before, but to her surprise, she was left with the same feeling of dread.  
Before she could get herself to fall asleep again, the blaring of her alarm clock informed her it was morning. Sighing, she turned it off and began her day.  
It took her forever to put herself together, unable to shake the grogginess hanging over her. It was almost as if she hadn’t slept at all. Once she began teaching, she was able to focus better, but the woman and her vague message tugged on her mind all day, fleeting images of New York flashing behind her eyelids every time she closed her eyes.  
During her lunch break, she ran into Bracken and took the opportunity to tell him about the dream. As she explained, he sat in silence, contemplating the new information. When she finished, he asked, “You think this was connected to the dreams from before?”  
“The nightmares?” she asked. Bracken nodded in confirmation. “I’m sure of it. Maybe this woman was sending them to me, trying to warn me. This last dream definitely felt like a warning.”  
Bracken shrugged. “Maybe,” he muttered, looking wary, as if he didn’t want to find out what they were warning him about. After a pause, he carefully asked, “Did she happen to mention what she was trying to warn you about?”  
Mariea sighed. “No. There was something about a prison, but that was it. It was too vague to make out.” Bracken looked disappointed, his gaze flicking to his half eaten lunch. “But there is a way I could find out,” Mariea added carefully, knowing what she was about to suggest next wouldn’t sit well with Bracken.  
His gaze met hers, a knowing glint in their dark depths. “You aren’t suggesting…” he started.  
“Going to New York? That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.”  
One eyebrow raised, Bracken mused, “That’s a long, dangerous journey just for a dream and a gut feeling.”  
“But I have to know if this is real,” Mariea pressed, forcing the annoyance out of her voice. “These have to be more than just dreams.”  
Bracken sighed. “I mean, if we were certain, then I would jump at the idea of going. But there’s so much to consider with such a trip. That world out there? It’s dangerous for Auraes.”  
“We don’t even know if the Shikani would attack us,” Mariea griped, using the Shidokian word for those without auras. She folded her arms against her chest, her defense of her old kin slowly becoming evident in her posture.  
“Every time we’ve interacted with the Shikani in the past, they’ve immediately reacted in violence. It’s like it’s engrained in their DNA to react in such a way towards us,” Bracken argued.  
Mariea let out a small, annoyed huff. She hated it when he brought in history to the debates, because he always won when he did. Reluctantly, she had to admit he had a point—she had seen a glimpse of their almost immediate hostility when her aura had first appeared. If it weren’t for the Brotherhood stepping in, she wasn’t entirely sure how they would have reacted. “You’re right. I guess I’ll just let it go, at least until I learn more,” she reluctantly muttered.  
He nodded, looking relieved, but still slightly wary. She could only imagine what he was thinking. He’s probably wondering what’s possessed his wife, she thought. It wasn’t like Mariea to do things on a whim, especially something as crazy as leaving Raidenya. But often the Auraes forgot their leader hadn’t been born on the island. Mariea was familiar with the world, its dangers, and how to get around undetected by the Shikani. I would be fine. If this keeps up, I’m going, she decided. 

After finishing up another day of teaching at the Academy, Mariea found herself at another council meeting, only slightly surprised a week had already flown past. Entering the room, she was delighted to see Samar was present with the rest of the group. When Ila joined her, she leaned close as she sat down next to Mariea and muttered, “We’re grateful you condoned to grace us with your presence, Samar.” Her words dripped with sarcasm, an only half hidden smirk playing at the corners of her lips. Mariea couldn’t prevent a small chuckle.  
Glancing at Samar, Mariea noted she hadn’t met the man sitting next to the Brotherhood leader. Often Samar brought a member of the Brotherhood’s smaller governing council as the second representative from the Brotherhood, but on rare occasions, he would choose someone from the general audience. This was usually when there was something specific he needed to report on and someone had more details than he could provide. Her eyes on the newcomer, Mariea wondered what had brought him here. Then Samar introduced him as Mefune, and explained he was the newest member of the Brotherhood’s governing body.  
“Ah. Nice to meet you, Mefune,” Mariea greeted. “I’m Mariea.”  
“Likewise,” Mefune agreed politely with a dip of his head. “I look forward to working with all of you.” His words carried the faintest hint of an accent, making Mariea wonder where he was from. She smiled, and then her attention was drawn elsewhere by something Bracken said.  
But as she was about to look away, she sensed something about Mefune, something only her aura could have noticed and made her surprisingly uncomfortable. It was like the feeling when discovering something quite unpleasant and long forgotten in the back of a cupboard, or some creepy-crawly thing hiding in the bathtub.  
Glancing back, she studied him more carefully, wondering what had brought such strong emotions. He was tall with a pale complexion, a lean build, and white-blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. He had the look of a soldier, which was common among the Brotherhood, as was his obvious young age despite his position. He was dressed in the formal attire of the Brotherhood; a crisp black uniform jacket with a high collar, dark pants, and boots. Though he watched the council with an air of suspicion, there was nothing Mariea noticed that would hint towards hostility.  
As if he could sense her watching him, he turned his intense blue gaze back to her, the suspicion in their cobalt depths only increasing. She blinked, caught off guard, and then quickly looked away. Every time she looked his way or he spoke, the feeling returned, forcing her to hide the shivers that ran down her back.  
Eventually, the meeting began, and she pushed the newcomer out of her mind. As Misha gave her report, Mariea was disappointed to learn even more Auraes had disappeared. Before a real discussion could begin, Samar quickly interjected, more than frustrated when he insisted the Brotherhood had nothing to do with what was happening to the Auraes.  
This only confused Mariea. “Nobody accused you, Samar,” she pointed out, wondering what had caused him to react in such a way.  
“Yeah, why are you so defensive?” Ila demanded. Mariea winced, wishing she had a way to rein in her fiery companion. She had a tendency to immediately go on the offensive the minute somebody said anything slightly argumentative, and it only ever made the situation worse.  
Just as Mariea had worried, Samar’s anger only grew as he shot back, “your accusations may not be vocalized while I am present, but I know you feel we are responsible. That was clear when you sent Gavin to chastise us.”  
“Hey, I didn’t do any chastising. I was just there to figure out what was going on and why you kept missing meetings,” Gavin defended, his hands raised before him defensively.  
“So you were investigating us, then?” Samar snapped, his gaze locking on to the dark haired Aurae.  
“Maybe if you would actually come to the meetings once in a while, we wouldn’t have a reason to suspect something was happening,” Ila retorted in response, defending Gavin. Samar returned his attention to Ila, obviously seeing her as the cause of his problems as the tension between the two quickly intensified.  
Before an all-out argument could start between the two, Mefune laid a hand on Samar’s shoulder. “It’s not worth it, Samar,” he muttered.  
Samar’s anger filled gaze snapped to Mefune, and the two seemed to have a silent debate for a few brief moments. Samar let out a small huff, obviously annoyed Mefune had involved himself, but he gave in to his comrade, slowly sitting back in his chair. He crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze shooting daggers at the blank wall behind Misha.  
Mariea sighed, relieved. She shot a grateful glance at Mefune, and then addressed the group as a whole. “Obviously nobody wants these deaths to continue, and arguing isn’t going to fix it. We need to find a solution.”  
The discussion began, but Samar and Ila were still tightly strung. Their comments were always backed by plenty of anger, and the weary Auraes around Mariea quickly became annoyed by them as well. Sighing, Mariea tuned them out, her thoughts trailing elsewhere, in search of solutions.  
The dream the night before started to play in her mind as if called up by some force that refused to let her push it aside. It had returned several times, and the woman had implied she held answers to Mariea’s struggles. She wanted to help. Maybe this is an answer? It seemed there was something coming, and she had insisted on its importance. I have to go to New York, she decided. If this is possibly an answer, I can’t ignore it. As crazy as everyone would think she was for acting on the dream, she was quickly begging to think she couldn’t ignore it anymore.  
"I think the answer is something we aren't considering, something we don't know about," She interrupted. The group finally fell silent, all eyes on her. Glancing to the Aurae on her left, she continued, "as much as I would like to agree with you, Gavin, I don't think the Tarapor are capable of this." She paused and looked to Samar. "And I trust your people are doing their job. There has to be another explanation."  
"What did you have in mind?" Mefune asked.  
"I... I received a message of sorts. It was incomplete and very vague, but it pointed me to a place I can look for more answers. It will take me off island though. I'll be gone for days, maybe even weeks. But I think this is what I need to do," Mariea explained.  
Bracken immediately protested, knowing what she was referring to. “That may not be the wisest idea. It’s too dangerous beyond the island. We can’t do anything to allow those beyond our shores to see our auras, or it could lead them back to us, and start their witch hunt all over again.” His words were carefully chosen for the professional setting they were in, but she could feel the desperate plea for her to reconsider underneath them. She knew he was just trying to protect her, but there was no way she could agree to his demands. Her mind was set on the course of action she needed to take.  
“I know the risks,” she insisted, meeting his gaze. “I once lived in that world. I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t think it was what was best for everyone.”  
Bracken sighed, relenting his defense, obviously not wanting to argue with his wife. “If you’re so certain, I’ll come with you,” he proposed. Mariea nodded, grateful for his support, even if it was offered reluctantly.  
“If you’re certain about this… then we can’t stop you,” Jocelyn commented, looking slightly worried for the blonde as well, but she clearly understood she couldn’t stop Mariea even if she wanted to.  
"I can keep things in order while you're gone," Ila offered, her way of pledging her support. Mariea nodded in agreement, shooting her old friend a grateful smile.  
"You should bring a Medic with you as well, just in case," Misha suggested. “Who knows what you’ll find once you’re out there.”  
Mariea nodded in agreement. “Do you have anyone in mind?” she asked the older woman.  
After considering it for a moment, the Medic suggested, "Mae Anderson. She just finished her apprenticeship and could use some real experience. It would be good for her. Plus, she’s very talented. I would trust her to handle anything.”  
Mariea agreed and then turned to Ila. "See to it that the families of those that perished are well taken care of. It's the least we can do for them since we failed to protect their loved ones," she requested, her voice taking on a more solemn note. Ila nodded, her gaze on the desk in front of her, her golden eyes reflecting the pain they all felt.  
"When will you leave?" Gavin asked, breaking the mournful silence that fell over them.  
Suddenly filled with a sense of urgency as she remembered how desperate the woman had sounded to share the information she had, Mariea decided, "If I can make it happen, tomorrow."

Mariea stood just beyond the front entrance to the Heathrow airport in London, staring at the throngs of people, one hand gripping her backpack tightly. Bracken stood at her side, wide-eyed and slightly pale. Mae was nearby, her green gaze attempting to take in her surroundings as well. Her younger brother, Owen—a last minute addition to their team—stood a step behind her, looking nervous. After a long boat ride from Raidenya to the nearest lightly populated area in Ireland, they found themselves at the airport in London, trying to find where to board the plane to New York.  
"So," Bracken stated lamely, obviously wondering what was supposed to happen next.  
Mariea bit her lip. She knew they were looking to her for guidance, as she was the only one with experience beyond the protection of their island home, but it had been so long since she had stepped foot in such a place, she couldn't remember what to do. Thankfully, memories of her few times in airports slowly came back to her, and she started to piece together their next step. "Okay, so.... we need to check in.” Mariea approached the desk, and then hesitated, feeling as though she had forgot something important.  
“What’s wrong?” Bracken asked as he came up next to her.  
Suddenly it dawned on her. “We need ID’s,” she informed them.  
“Eyed ees?” Owen wondered, sounding confused.  
Mae laughed. “Identification cards. Like a driver’s license or something. It’s what all these people use to identify themselves, like we use our auras,” she informed the group. Glancing to Mariea, she asked, “Right?”  
Mariea nodded, to which Mae smiled slightly, clearly pleased with herself, which was humorous to Mariea.  
“So… where do we get these identification cards?” Bracken wondered.  
“They should be in with the stuff the Brotherhood gave us,” Mariea replied, setting her suitcase down and pulling the strap of her bag over her shoulder. She rummaged through its contents, and then pulled out a folder. The Brotherhood was in charge of keeping Raidenya and its occupants a secret, and had figured ways to allow themselves to travel amongst the Shikani without them noticing. It became beneficial for Mariea’s situation as well, as they were able to provide her with everything she would need to legally and quietly travel.  
From the folder, she produced three cards, one for herself, Bracken, and Mae. Glancing at Owen, she realized they had another problem. “They didn’t know you were coming. We don’t have one for you.”  
Owen looked concerned, and Mae grumbled something under her breath too quiet for Mariea to understand. “Hmm…” Bracken muttered, studying the rectangular plastic card she had given him. “I think… I might be able to duplicate mine,” he mused, his aura appearing in thin wisps around his hands.  
“Wait, Bracken, not here,” Mariea hissed, laying a hand on her husband’s arm. He looked up to her, surprised, and then realization dawned on his face.  
“Right,” he muttered, his aura disappearing again as he glanced around. Mariea swallowed hard, surprised by how easily he had forgotten of the danger of using his aura in public. He paused in his searching and then muttered, “I’ll be right back.” He hurried to one side of the open area, where Mariea noticed public restrooms. This is pathetic, she thought, hating how they had to hide their auras.  
He returned a moment later, holding a second card in his hand. It had a slightly different tint in color, and the picture only vaguely resembled Owen, but Mariea figured it would do. “It’s the best I can do. I was originally thinking of just fooling the worker past any flaws with a spell, but that’s obviously not going to work. It’d take me a long time to duplicate it exactly, which, if I’m remembering right, we need to be to the plane at a certain time, leaving us with limited time to spend on this problem.”  
Mariea nodded. “It’ll work,” she reassured him, hoping he knew she appreciated him trying.  
Mae sighed. “I hate this place,” she grumbled, glaring at the people around her as if they were the cause of her troubles. “What if one of you gets hurt while we’re out here? Am I just supposed to stand there and do nothing?”  
Mariea bit her lip, wondering if she had made a mistake bringing them into a world that was so against everything they were. “It’ll be fine. We only have to deal with it until we get to wherever it is we’re going,” Mariea told them in an attempt to reassure them.  
“Let’s get going then,” Mae requested. “The sooner I can use my aura again, the better.”  
“Should we really even be talking about it in the open?” Owen muttered as they started for the desk.  
Mariea reached the desk first and handed the woman her ID, setting her bag on the scale next to the computer. The attendant greeted her shortly, then started typing things on her computer. Eventually she handed Mariea the ID back, along with a slip of paper. “Have a nice flight,” she commented, and then threw her luggage onto the conveyer belt behind her. Mariea stepped out of the way, and Bracken took her place.  
Inspecting the paper, Mariea realized it was her boarding pass. Stopping just beyond the check in desks, she watched Bracken finish up and make his way to her. He paused, staying closer to the desk, intently watching as Owen handed the woman his ID. Mariea held her breath as she waited to see if it would pass the attendant’s inspection. Owen glanced at them nervously when the attendant frowned and glanced at Owen suspiciously, then back at the card. Suddenly, Mariea realized Bracken was moving back towards the line, thin wisps of his aura appearing around his hands. She started after him, but quickly realized there was nothing she could do to stop him without drawing unwanted attention.  
The attendant blinked, and then began typing on her computer again, her suspicion suddenly gone. She handed Owen a boarding pass and dismissed him, moving on to Mae. Mariea finally allowed herself to breathe. Owen joined the two, smiling in relief. Soon Mae was through the line as well, and the group moved on to their next obstacle—security.  
“Okay, so we have to remove anything metal, and our shoes and put them in the little bins so they can be scanned. And our carry-on bags go too,” Mariea explained hastily as they approached the line.  
“Why?” Owen asked.  
“They want to scan them for any weapons or dangerous objects. Apparently people have a tendency of doing horrible things with planes,” Mariea added quietly. She had survived one of those moments, and remembered the chaos, even though she had been only a few years old at the time. Owen looked surprised, and at least a little bit worried. Mariea gave him a small smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll be safe. They’ve done a great job making sure it can’t happen again.” He nodded, looking slightly relieved.  
Joining the painfully slow line, Mariea began removing anything metal she had on her person. Watching the metal detector before her, she was surprised by how complicated it was compared to the ones she remembered from her childhood. When it was her turn, she stepped into the center of the circular device and did as she was instructed. She was allowed to pass, to her relief.  
As she began to collect her things, she glanced over at Bracken as he passed through. She could see the monitor displaying the x-ray image, and was surprised to see his aura seemed to show on the device. That’s interesting, she mused, taking note of it.  
Bracken joined her, but he kept watching the other side warily. “I don’t think Owen’s ID is going to get past security,” he muttered as quietly as he could.  
Mariea frowned, glancing back. To her relief, Owen had already stepped into the metal detector. She jerked her head in that direction, meeting Bracken’s gaze. He glanced back, and then his shoulders slumped in relief.  
Once all of their belongings were gathered, they hurried to their terminal, arriving just as the plane was boarding. Mariea finally allowed herself to relax as she settled into her seat, Bracken next to her, the siblings across the aisle. As the plane climbed into the sky, Bracken’s gaze stayed glued to the shrinking ground outside, obviously slightly afraid and fascinated by the fact he was currently flying.  
“That was reckless, what you did back in the airport,” Mariea accused. Bracken frowned slightly, but he didn’t look away from the window.  
“I know. But I had to do something. Them investigating him for having a fake ID probably wouldn’t have helped us any. At least, I assume.” Finally, he turned to meet her gaze. “You may know more about this world, but you’ve got to trust me to be able to handle myself here, or this isn’t going to go well.”  
Mariea stared back at him for a moment, and then sighed, her gaze flicking downward. She had to admit, he was right about the investigation leading to more trouble. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”  
He smiled slightly and wrapped his hand around hers. “It’s okay. We’re in this together. I know you’re stressed, and feel responsible for us all, especially Owen and Mae. But you don’t have to carry this burden alone. I’m here for you.”  
She met his gaze again, returning the smile. “For that, I’m grateful,” she admitted.  
Several grueling hours later, the plane finally lowered itself to the ground. Mariea was jolted awake when the wheels hit the runway. Taking a deep breath, she stretched as best as she could in the cramped space as the plane taxied to the loading ramp. Glancing out the window, she studied the glowing New York skyline in the distance, feeling a wave of nostalgia pass over her. Memories washed over her, and she smiled slightly, allowing herself to enjoy the fact she was returning to her old home.  
“Welcome to New York,” the attendant announced. “The current time is six-thirty AM.”  
Slowly the plane unloaded its passengers. After passing through the gate, the group gathered out of the way of the traffic. “We need to get our bags," Mariea muttered. Glancing around, she located a sign pointing towards the baggage claim area. "This way."  
It took them much longer than necessary to figure out where their bags were at. Once claimed, they made their way out of the airport, into the busy world outside as the sun broke over the horizon. They quickly rented a car and made their way into the city.  
“So, where exactly are we going?” Mae asked as she leaned forward between the two front seats, Owen peering over her shoulder.  
Trying to have a conversation and drive in the ridiculous New York traffic proved difficult for Mariea, so she pulled off at the first sight of free parking she noticed. Once the car was in park, she turned to face her three comrades. “Honestly, I’m not too sure.” She thought about it for a minute. Glancing at the glove box in front of Bracken, she asked, “Could you hand me that map?” Bracken pulled it from the glove box. Mariea had bought it at the car rental office, knowing they would need something to help them get around.  
Scanning the map, Mariea tried to find anywhere that looked familiar. It was hard to correlate her memories with the flattened areal version of them on the map before her, but eventually she figured out where she was. From there, her gaze started trailing outwards, searching for anything that looked like the images she had seen in her dream. Nostalgia washed over her as she studied her old home, and she was immediately drawn to the sector where she and her parents had lived in a small apartment. With nowhere else to go, and feeling an overwhelming desire to visit the place, Mariea pointed to the spot and said, “Here.” Handing the map to Bracken, she asked, “Can you direct me there?”  
He nodded, and they were off.  
They drove through the busy New York streets as familiar sights and all new areas flashed past, a bittersweet smile spreading on Mariea’s face. Finally, they reached the apartment building. Mariea was disappointed to find it was fenced off, a demolitions crew setting up nearby, and a sign advertising a new apartment complex to be built in its place. She stood by the fence, staring at the building. The red-brown brick walls showed the many years the building had stood underneath the layers of graffiti, and many of the windows were smashed in or boarded up.  
Despite this, all Mariea could see was what it had looked like back when she had called it home. She remembered the worn concrete steps leading up to each door. Her apartment was in the second column, on the third floor. She remembered the faint odor of cigarette smoke from the neighbors, which her mother had always tried to mask with a variety of candles. The large bay window had overlooked the grassy area across the street, which was now occupied by another apartment building. She could see what looked like curtains hanging in the window, and she wondered if it were the same ones from when her family had occupied the apartment. She remembered the pale white walls brightened by her mother’s decorations, and the comfortably worn leather couch tucked underneath the window, where she had sat watching the world around her for many years, waiting for her father to come home or a friend to stop by.  
But all that was gone. An accident had claimed her parents’ lives, leaving Mariea an orphan but barely old enough to fend for herself. She had managed for a time, with help from friends and family, but she had quickly run out of money to keep the apartment and found herself on the streets. About to give up and move in with a relative, leaving behind the last bit of her parents, she had found herself slipping into a deep, dark depression. But suddenly all that had changed when she found herself with a new opportunity; the Brotherhood had come for her, inviting her into the world she knew now, allowing her to escape the grief and fear she had harbored.  
Bracken stepped up next to her, resting a hand on her shoulder. She almost jumped, realizing she wasn’t alone. Reality came crashing back in, and she sighed. Glancing at her husband, she managed a half smile. His brown eyes revealed the worry he felt for her, making her wonder how much of her reminiscing had been reflected in her expression. “Is this where we need to be?” he asked softly.  
“Maybe,” she answered. “I… I don’t know why though.”  
“What is this place?” Owen asked from behind the couple where he and Mae stood.  
“It’s where I grew up,” Mariea admitted simply. After a pause, she added, “A lot has changed.”  
“So… what do we do? Is there something inside you need?” Bracken asked, glancing at the dilapidated buildings warily.  
Mariea didn’t answer for a long moment, searching for answers herself. What do I need to do? Where do I need to go? She asked the woman from the vision silently, hoping beyond reason she could hear her, and direct her. But nothing came.  
Bowing her head in defeat, Mariea allowed her eyes to slide closed, wondering if she had dragged Bracken and the siblings all the way here for no reason. But as her eyes closed, another image flashed across her mind, and she suddenly knew where she needed to go.  
“It’s not here,” she announced, turning away from the old building, and with it her past. “Come on.”  
She led them back to the car and quickly found the best way to navigate through the city to her next destination. Soon they found themselves standing on an abandoned pier, staring out over the ocean. Despite it being empty and long forgotten, Mariea could sense something else to her surroundings.  
“Is…this where we’re supposed to be?” Mae asked doubtfully, as if she totally expected to end up being just another stop, like the apartment building.  
“Yes…I think,” Mariea stated, feeling both equally confident and unsure. What an odd combination of emotions, she mused absentmindedly.  
Taking a step forward, she laid a hand on one of the old poles to steady herself as she looked out at the sea.  
Suddenly reality disappeared, and she found herself in eighteenth-century America, the busy dock around her bustling with people. It was late, too late to be starting a sea voyage, and yet several people clamored to get on the ship docked at the end of the pier, trying to be as quiet as they could. Mariea caught glimpses of their tired and scared faces as the light from a few candle lanterns passed over them. Suddenly she knew what was happening; they were Auraes, she could sense it, and they were fleeing. Remembering the persecution of her people from the history books she had read, it suddenly all made sense.  
A man appeared next to Mariea and looked to her. “Elinore, come along,” he hissed, gesturing Mariea closer. Surprised, Mariea pointed at herself, wondering why he had called her Elinore. Suddenly the woman she had seen in her first dream materialized before her, moving to stand next to the man. She was younger now, about fifteen, and didn’t seem to carry the same weight she had when Mariea had first met her.  
Following Elinore, the scene morphed, taking Mariea onto the ship. Then, time seemed to speed up, and days flashed by like a time-lapse video. Mariea watched their ship, like a little toy in a bathtub, bob its way across the sea, to a small, unfamiliar and wild island.  
Slowly a society was born from the rugged wilderness, and Elinore grew with it, maturing in beauty as well as Auric strength.  
The vision ended as quickly as it had begun, snapping her back to reality. “Mariea!” Mae yelled, placing a hand on her arm and shaking her lightly.  
“What?” Mariea snapped, surprisingly harsh as she glared at Mae, wondering if she was the reason the vision had ended.  
Mae sighed in relief, obviously not caring about Mariea’s impolite tone. “Man, you were gone,” she informed her. “I feel like I’ve been yelling at you for a solid ten minutes.”  
“It was only two,” Owen corrected her, but he too looked concerned as his gaze met hers.  
“What happened?” Bracken asked, ignoring the siblings’ bickering.  
“I’m fine, I just…when I touched this pillar, I saw more of the message,” she informed them.  
Bracken brightened, looking slightly relieved. “So it wasn’t just a hunch then,” he mused.  
She shot him a pointed look, surprised he still doubted her, to which he raised his hands in surrender. She sighed, letting it go, and then turned back to the water. “No, it definitely wasn’t just a thing of my imagination,” she confirmed. Staring out at the horizon, she got the overwhelming feeling of the direction the ship had taken, and that she needed to follow it. “And I know where to go next.”


	3. Raidenya

**Prologue  
From Inside the Prison**

 

The boy stumbled to a halt in the shadows of a building, trying to calm his heavy breathing and racing heart, hoping they wouldn’t give him away. Hearing approaching footsteps, he backed farther into the shadows, fear making him clumsier than he would have liked.  
“Where is he?” One of his pursuers demanded. “The Doutarab will kill us if we don’t bring him back.”  
“Just pay attention for his aura. That’ll give him away,” another voice suggested.  
“Right,” the first man agreed. The boy could imagine him grinning wickedly, his hope of finding the runaway renewed.  
Trying not to panic, the boy slipped as far as he could into the thin alley, hoping beyond hope he wouldn’t be spotted. He suppressed his aura, burying it deep inside, hoping to hide it from his pursuers.  
One of the two men stepped into the crack of an alley, his dark eyes scanning the shadows. The boy held his breath, his gaze glued on the man, hoping he wouldn’t notice him.  
The shadows proved to be enough to hide him; the man let out a small huff and then disappeared around the corner. Deciding not to give him a chance to come back, the boy quickly looked for a way out, his gaze trailing along the alley first and then to the roof above him. I guess I’ll have to climb, he thought, realizing there was no way out of the alley, not unless he wanted to venture back out into the streets and towards those chasing him.  
Lifting his hands to the wall, he searched for handholds. His fingers slipped into gaps big enough for him to get a good grip. Pressing his foot into a hole in the wall a foot above the ground, he boosted himself up and began to climb the wall. It wasn’t hard, with how dilapidated it was; it left plenty of ledges and rough edges for him to hold on to. For once, he found himself grateful for how worn down the city was.  
Hoisting himself onto the roof, he hurried away from the edge of the building, crouching low on the flat roof in an attempt to hide his presence from anyone below. Finding a somewhat clean spot, he sunk down, letting himself have a moment to catch his breath and calm his racing heart. So far so good, he thought, trying hard not to get his hopes up just yet. But he was determined to succeed. His mind was racing, going over his plan again and again, hoping he could continue through with it with the same level of luck he had seen so far. One thing he knew for sure; there was no way he would allow himself to be dragged back to his father, and the horrors that awaited him there.  
When he was feeling rested, the boy straightened and slinked back to the edge of the roof. Staring out over the streets, he watched for any sign of the guards sent after him, a tense silence falling over him. He could see them searching a few streets down, their auras surrounding them in a murky green glow. Realizing they were steadily moving away from him, the boy allowed a small half smile, the first in days.  
Sitting up a little straighter, his gaze searched the horizon before him, looking for the faint glowing of the spell doors. He was far away from them now, but to mislead the guards he had purposefully ran in the opposite direction of his goal. They knew how badly he wanted to escape since his last failed attempt to reach the doors. It had earned him a week in his father’s dungeons, an experience he would never get out of his mind.  
Shivering slightly, he forced those memories away, but not before he noticed one ironic fact about the whole situation; it was odd to him what had finally caused him to incur his father’s wrath. Even when the boy had killed one of his kin in a fit of rage almost one month ago, the Doutarab hadn’t reacted in anger. But the minute he started questioning the way their people lived, and everything the Doutarab stood for, the boy immediately felt the repercussions. He’s completely mad, he thought, not for the first time.  
But no matter what the dark creature did to him, he couldn’t make the boy turn back. Despite how everyone around him tried to convince him otherwise, he could see with clarity now that the dark power his kind hunted after by instinct was wrong in so many ways. His own search for it had caused him, even at a young age, to have blood on his hands. He felt deep remorse for what he had done in his own quest for that power, and often wondered if he could ever forgive himself. He had done all he could to forsake it and start fresh, but it couldn’t change the fact that he had snuffed out another being’s life in cold cruelty. And he hadn’t done it just once.  
The problem with it was, once tainted by the power, his aura craved more of it. And the prison didn’t make it hard to find it. It had taken all his willpower to reject it, but he had managed. Over time, it became easier as the change to his aura was more obvious, the murky color of it mixing with the darkness fading to leave behind molten silver.  
But, the problem with living the new life he had chosen was it attracted a lot of unwanted attention from those around him. They could sense the difference in his aura that giving up the darkness caused, which immediately urged them to disown him, even torment him for his decision. Between their tormenting and the almost irresistible temptation all around him, it had lead him almost to the brink of insanity, but even then he wouldn’t give up his decision. At this point, he was convinced he had to escape, or die trying. There was no life for him in the prison they lived in.  
There was one advantage to the whole situation. The spells keeping them in were actually designed to release its prisoners once they gave up the hunt for power. Once their aura was pure, they could leave. With his aura pure he could easily pass through the spells, but the Doutarab, or any of the minions he sent after the boy, couldn’t follow him without risking their own life. The boy knew all too well that his father wouldn’t give up the power he had gained, even if it meant losing his son. He was counting on it.  
Steeling his nerves for the coming dash, the boy stood carefully, keeping his gaze on his surroundings. Running across the rooftop, he quickly jumped to the next building, grateful for how close together they were built. Time passed slowly, the stale, cold air rushing past him as he settled into a rhythm, his gaze locked on the pulsing light of the spell doors in the distance.  
It took some time, crossing from roof to roof, before he was forced to climb down to the roads again as the buildings spread out. Coming to a halt, he peered over the edge again, waiting to make sure the road was disserted, and then started down the side of the building. Once he was close enough to the ground he could jump without breaking his neck, he decided to save himself time and let go. Hitting the ground, he rolled with the motion and ended in a crouch behind a large crate.  
Immediately he realized it had been a good decision to jump down the remaining distance, because one of the guards passed by the entrance seconds after he landed on the ground. If I had stayed on that wall a second longer, he would have seen me, he realized. That’s too close. Why did they double back this way? He waited in tense silence for a few moments, unable to know for sure if the guard was gone; he couldn’t see around the crate without possibly revealing his position, and with his aura as suppressed as it was, he couldn’t sense theirs. He bit his lip, listening carefully for any movement or the sound of breathing nearby, anything that would give him a clue to what was happening beyond his shelter.  
He was met with silence, and was beginning to realize either the guard was also waiting for him to reveal his position, or he had moved on. Inching forward, he risked a glanced around the edge of the crate. To his relief, the alley was empty.  
The boy quickly climbed to his feet and darted to the end of the alleyway opposite of where he had seen the guard. Peering carefully around the edge, he double checked he was clear, and then bolted down the street, trying to stay out of the lighted areas as much as possible. It wasn’t long before somebody noticed him, but now he had enough of a head start he figured he could outrun them.  
The prison floor curved upward, towards the spells, and the boy felt a bit relieved as he neared it. Finally slowing just before them, he stared upward, sensing the power they carried. Silence fell over him, the only sounds his own heartbeat and the gentle hum of the spells. A bit apprehensive, he approached them slowly, knowing he was at the moment of truth; finally he would find out if his aura was really as pure as he believed it was.  
Suddenly the sounds of footsteps behind him shook him from his stupor. The boy flipped around, trying to see how close they were, and then focused again on the spells, knowing if he could just get past the first layer before they reached him, he would be off free and clear. He pushed away his fear, realizing he had nothing left to lose. This was his last shot.  
Pressing a hand against the rippling surface, he felt the spells wrap around it as a tingling sensation washed over him. His aura involuntarily came to light, surrounding him in a molten silver glow. Hearing his pursuers get closer, the boy pushed farther into the spells. He felt a hand brush his shoulder, grasping at him, before he sank completely into the magic.  
Turning back around, he saw a handful of his father’s minions staring back him, a mixture of fear, surprise, and anger on their faces. One of them stepped forward, making the boy take a step back, and reached out a hand towards the spells. His aura came alight, the murky green power sparking angrily where it touched the spells. Smoke trailed off his skin, and he grimaced, trying to fight it. Then he pulled away with a groan of pain, clutching the wounded limb to his chest.  
I was right, they can’t follow me, the boy thought, smirking now. Knowing he had everyone’s attention, he bowed dramatically, and then gave a mock salute as he turned his back on them, towards his ever brightening future.  
The spells molded around him. He could feel them testing his aura, probing it for the taint of the twisted power he had once possessed. The tingling sensation intensified until it burned his skin, but it wasn’t unbearable—it was almost if the last of his past was burning away as he passed through the spells, allowing him hope for a chance at a new life.  
Then came the temptation. He hadn’t expected this. The spells were literally handing him a taste of the corruption he had given up. His aura seemed to reach for it, acting on its own volition. If it weren’t for his practice at pulling away, resisting the darkness, he would have lost it.  
When he felt the gentle breeze blow his hair away from his face, he caught a whiff of a smell that was totally unfamiliar to him—it smelt alive, and fresh, nothing like the monotonous sterile air of the prison he had spent his entire life in. The light of the spells seemed to grow, forcing him to blink heavily in an attempt to adjust to the light, one hand raising to shield his eyes. He had never seen something so bright.  
As he continued forward, the spells seemed to thicken around him, making it impossible to move. It wasn’t long before his muscles burned with exertion, but he was hardly making any progress. Just when his strength was ready to fail him, the pressure let up and he stumbled forward before he fell, landing hard on something warm. Blinking, he lifted his head and studied whatever it was underneath him, amazed by how soft and yet equally hard it was. The deep brown material clumped in his hand, sticking in bits to his skin, but it fell away when he rubbed his fingers together. It smelt rich, prickling at his nose. Underneath the initial soft layer, he felt a harder, almost damp version of the material; when he tried to dig into it, it didn’t give, instead forcing the stuff up underneath his nails.  
Too weak to stand but wanting so badly to explore the world he had found himself in, he managed to roll himself over, staring upwards. It was almost as bright as the spells he had left behind, so it took his eyes a moment to adjust. When his vision cleared, he stared up in surprise. Towering, brown, rough and jagged polls surrounded him, their height reaching far above what he had ever thought possible. Each of the main poles broke off into several small poles to spread out above him, their tips covered in delicate, deep green triangular…the boy couldn’t find the words for them. Never had he seen such a thing. They looked as soft as paper, ready to crumble under the slightest touch, but when the wind blew through them, they flapped in the breeze, unbreakable.  
Above that, the boy caught sight of the roof—or where the roof would have been, in the prison. He had no idea if the world he had stepped into was as encased as the one he had left. But whatever it was, it captivated him. It was a deep, vibrant blue, such a contrast to the greens of the triangular decorations on the poles, and yet it complimented them. It seemed to belong.  
A noise caught his attention, soft and trailing. It was high pitched, like the whistle of hot steam escaping from a pot, but gentler. A sound that made him want to listen instead of quickly snuff it out. It flittered up and down through the air, pausing at random intervals but with no clear pattern. Feeling an overwhelming sense of peace wash over him, the boy sighed, content to just rest in the beautiful scene around him, his gaze locked onto the blue expanse above the poles. He knew there was a chance he could be in danger—he had no idea what this new world, with all its vibrant colors and light and wonders, could hold—but he was far away from his father, and there was no way he could follow him. There was a very real chance he could be the only living thing in the whole world, but he was honestly okay with it. For now, he had earned the chance to rest.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously: Mariea had another dream, this one with specific instructions guiding her to New York. She took the leap and is now trying to discover where it is the dreams want her to go...

 

# Chapter 3

The Beginning

Mefune

 

            Mefune glanced around the dining hall, finding Altaira near the far corner, her body hunched over a plate of food, the eternal scowl she had worn since the duel still in place. He frowned slightly, knowing the coming conversation would not be easy, but he had made up his mind.

            After his last discussion with Samar, he had informed Garrett of what he had discovered, wondering if he would more actively involve himself now that there was an obvious threat. “I don’t know…I told you because I hoped you would take care of it. I’m not sure I want to go up against Samar,” had been his reply.

            “You’re scared of him,” Mefune had stated flatly, slightly annoyed by the other man’s reluctance.

            “And with good reason,” Garrett defended, a wild look in his eye. He swallowed hard. “I’m not bold like you. I go with the flow. I’ve seen too many die already once they defy Samar. I would rather not add my name to that list.”

            “So you dropped the problem in my lap and hoped I wouldn’t die?” Mefune griped.

            Garrett gave him a sheepish grin. “Something like that, yeah.” Then he sighed. “Look, if you can find a way to involve me that won’t risk my death, let me know, but I’m not comfortable with this idea. I do wish you luck though. Samar should be taken down.” With that, he slipped away.

            “Coward,” Mefune grumbled to himself as he watched him leave. Then he let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. Finding a quiet place to sit alone, he debated who else he could trust with this problem. For once in his life, he found him regretting his need to keep distance between him and the rest of the Brotherhood; it left him with few people he could trust.

            _Well, there is one person I know, without a shadow of a doubt, would give anything for the Brotherhood,_ he mused reluctantly. Altaira had adamantly ignored him since their duel, and he had the feeling that wasn’t going to change any time soon. _But…if I promise her the power she’s seeking, will she help?_ He wondered.

            Grumbling his annoyance in a quiet, ineligible curse, he had gone searching for the brunette.

            Now he stared at her, still reluctant. _She’ll get over her annoyance eventually,_ he told himself, but it still didn’t make him excited for the time leading up to that moment. After a moment more, he forced himself to start towards the table, hoping he wouldn’t regret the next conversation.

* * *

 

_Altaira_

            Altaira sat alone in the dining hall, pushing food around her plate. She hadn’t had much of an appetite over the past couple weeks, so much so that she had lost weight. It was ridiculous, and she knew it, but it seemed impossible to shake just how upset she was. Sighing, she forced herself to take another bite, determined to finish the meal whether it made her sick or not. 

            “Altaira?” a man asked from next to her. Turning to look up, she discovered Mefune standing over her.

            Quickly looking back to her plate in an attempt to hide the immediate anger that welled up inside of her, she stayed silent for a moment. “What?” she finally snapped.

            Mefune sighed, obviously noticing how angry she was. “Are you still holding that match against me? I won. It’s over. Shooting me death glares every time you see me isn’t going to change that.”

            This only made Altaira angrier. _Did he literally just come here to rub it in?_ She wondered.

            When she didn’t answer, he added, “I need your help with something, but obviously your anger will make this difficult. If you feel you can put aside your emotions, come find me, and we’ll talk.”

With that, he walked away, leaving Altaira bewildered and still angry. _Whatever,_ she thought, shoving another bite in her mouth and chewing it with a determined pace.

            Finally, the last of her lunch was gone, allowing Altaira to release herself from the dining hall.  She wandered for a bit, in search of Daya. She located her friend working on repairing a broken emergency hatch on one of the slopes of the underground fortress. She was covered in grease from the hinges and bolts but didn’t seem to notice.

As Altaira approached, she finally looked away from her work, greeting her friend with a smile. Obviously noticing Altaira’s sour mood, she sobered slightly and asked, “What’s up?”

 “I was in the dining hall today, and Mefune asked me to help him with something,” Altaira informed her.

            Daya raised one eyebrow, clearly surprised. “That’s different. What did he want help with?” she asked.

            Altaira shrugged. “He wouldn’t tell me. Something about me being too angry.” She rolled her eyes with that, annoyed once again.

Daya scoffed. “Sounds like a very appealing proposal. Vague and unconvincing. Perfect,” she deadpanned.

Altaira couldn’t resist a half smile, but that was all Daya was rewarded for her sarcasm. “He said he’d tell me later if I asked though,” she muttered.

            “Hmm.” Daya eyed Altaira with a searching gaze, an idea forming, but she seemed reluctant to speak it.

“What?” Altaira pressed, too impatient to wait for the other woman to make up her mind.

“Maybe you should ask him about it?”

            “No way,” Altaira immediately protested with a shake of her head, quickly declining the incredulous suggestion. There was no way she would willingly associate with him, let alone work with him. _Whatever his problem is, he can take care of it himself,_ she stated firmly to herself.

            Daya’s former amusement now completely gone, she insisted, “Altaira, can’t you see how good of an opportunity this is? He has power, the one thing we lack, and maybe in exchange for your help he’ll be willing to assist you as well.” When Altaira didn’t respond, Daya continued. “At least hear him out. He wouldn’t have come to you unless it was something important.”

            “Or he’s gloating.”

            Daya shook her head, obviously thinking Altaira was being ridiculous. “And we both know Mefune’s not the type of person to do that.” Sighing, she folded her arms, spreading the grease stains further. “Look, I have to be perfectly honest with you. As much as you think he’s standing in the way of your goal, he’s actually not; it’s your anger that’s in the way at this point.”

            Altaira almost snapped something in return, but then she paused, considering her words with a sigh. After a long moment of silence, she finally looked back up to Daya. “Fine, I’ll try talking to him.”

            Daya brightened, obviously surprised Altaira had agreed. “Good! Let me know how it goes.”

            “I will,” Altaira agreed, silently hoping it would go horribly just so she could tell Daya she was wrong.

            After chatting with Daya for a little while longer, Altaira left her friend to her work and made her way back into the shelter of the Brotherhood headquarters. Once in the halls, she hovered for a second, trying to decide what to do next. Even though she had agreed to talk to Mefune, it didn’t make approaching him any easier. _But if not now, when?_ She admitted silently.

But as Mefune appeared at the other end of the hall, the familiar burning rage welled up inside, and she knew she couldn’t do it. Turning to walk the other way, she quickly moved away from him.

For days, she found herself doing the same thing until finally, she had convinced herself she had to talk to him or she’d go mad with all the conflicting feelings and Daya’s pestering. Once again, Altaira found herself searching for him, albeit reluctantly. She scanned yet another somewhat crowded stone hallway, hoping to see his lean figure appear, but he never did.   _Now that I actually want to talk to him, suddenly he’s disappeared,_ she grumbled inwardly.

Leaving the hall behind, she continued her search, wandering through the many corridors and gathering places. Eventually, she found herself outside the Council room. When she noticed how deep into the cave-like fortress she had wandered, she realized it was the last room she had to search. Figuring he wouldn’t be there, she sighed. _Knowing my luck, he’s probably out on patrol,_ she grumbled silently.

Entering the grand meeting hall, she passed by the long rows of seats, remembering how not long ago she had gathered there with the rest of the Brotherhood to honor Mefune’s victory. Feeling the familiar anger well up inside, she pushed it away, knowing it would only make the coming conversation harder.

Because of how deep into the cliff it was built, the room was allowed to have high, vaulted ceilings without disturbing the discrete underground design of the base. Windows along the top allowed in shafts of afternoon light, giving the room a brightly lit center but leaving many dark corners around the edges. Below rose the Council seats, seven slightly vaulted throne-like chairs in a row surrounding a raised bar. They gave the Council the ability to look down upon the rest of the Brotherhood, insisting their dominance.

To Altaira’s surprise, Mefune sat alone near the front of the room. He had claimed a spot in one of the last rows before the Council seats. Clearly lost in thought, he sat staring at the ground, his chin resting on his closed fist, and his elbow on his knee.

Altaira paused when she saw him, apprehensive once again, but then gathered her courage and pushed forward. As she approached, Mefune’s gaze didn’t move from the spot on the floor, so she thought he hadn’t noticed her. When he spoke, it made her heart skip a beat, but she managed to remain composed. “Did you decide you wanted to talk?” he asked simply.

She sighed. “Yes. I have to admit you sparked my curiosity…and you’re right, it’s time to put that duel behind me,” she admitted. She almost couldn’t get herself to say it, but knew she would never be able to move on if she didn’t admit it.

 “I’m glad you finally figured that out,” he commented. “You’re too good to be consumed by anger.”

The combined compliment and admonition surprised Altaira, leaving her temporarily without words. “I guess so,” she finally managed, rubbing the back of her neck with a hand. “What is it that you want my help with, exactly?”

“I have to know you’re willing to help me before I tell you,” he stated, meeting her gaze.

“But I can’t know I want to help until you tell me what it is that I’m going to be doing,” she pressed, trying not to get annoyed.

“It’s a touchy subject. If you can’t handle it, I’m not even going bother telling you,” he stated, folding his arms as he leaned back against the chair.

“I think I can handle it, whatever it is,” Altaira stated in an attempt to reassure him. “Why did you approach me if you doubted I could?”

He stayed silent for a moment, his deep blue eyes searching hers. It was impossible to read how he was feeling, his face a neutral mask, bordering indifference. “Because I knew you could,” he finally stated. Before she could question how he knew it, he continued. “If I tell you, you have to swear not to spread this information to anyone.” His voice took on a dangerous edge, the implied warning clear to Altaira.

“Of course,” she readily agreed, not wanting to get on his bad side. There was something unnerving about his calculating gaze, and she didn’t want to find out what he was capable of.

His gaze returned to the Council seats, darkening with an emotion Altaira couldn’t quite place. “I assume you had your goals for joining the Council, as did I,” he began. “But I’ve discovered my goals are irrelevant now. I’ve stumbled across something that could be fatal to the Brotherhood, and possibly the Auraes. I want to stop it but can’t do it alone. I was hoping we could put our differences aside and work together.”

“If it means protecting the brotherhood, I’m in,” Altaira readily agreed. She hated knowing the order she was a part of was threatened in any way, and wouldn’t hesitate to protect it. But then another thought came to mind. “But why ask me? We’ve always been rivals.”

Mefune seemed to consider this for a moment. “I figured it would help cover up our actions. And I needed someone who I knew was completely dedicated to the Brotherhood. There’s few I would trust with a matter such as this, but I can’t take care of it on my own,” he informed her.

Altaira nodded, considering his words for a moment, before asking, “Alright then, what is this threat?”

“The Council.”

Altaira raised one eyebrow, giving him a quizzical look. “What? That doesn’t make any sense. Why would the Council be working to destroy the Brotherhood? They lead it,” she pointed out.

Mefune sighed. “Because Samar’s an idiot,” Mefune griped, his irritation towards the older man breaking his careful composure briefly. “He’s power hungry, and apparently basically having the entire Council under his thumb isn’t enough for him. He wants to move against the Auraes next.”

“How does he expect to do that?” Altaira asked, wary now. Of all the things Mefune could have told her, this was the farthest thing from her mind. She had quickly forgotten all she held against him, focusing solely on protecting her brothers in arms.

“He plans to use the Tarapor to his advantage,” he told her. “He thinks if he releases a few in the city, the Auraes will be desperate to stop them, so they’ll listen to his demands.”

Altaira stayed silent, contemplating the destruction Samar’s plan would cause, knowing there would be many deaths amongst the Auraes. It sent a shiver down her spine and left a nasty taste in her mouth. _I can’t believe he’s willing to go to such a level._

As if thinking the same thing, Mefune fumed, “It’s disgusting. He’s willing to murder hundreds, for what? I don’t even know what it is that he wants out of the Auraes.”

Altaira sighed. “Why don’t we just tell the Auraes about this?” she asked.

 “I want to enlist their help if I can, but Samar has a surprising amount of followers, mostly those who live off the island. Many of those on Radienya would die if the Auraes attacked, but there are enough off island that would survive, I think they would only use the fight to their advantage, and gain the full support of the Brotherhood. At that point, our alliance would be totally destroyed, and we would both suffer for it.”

Slightly suspicious of how much he wanted to keep this secret, she couldn’t resist asking, “How do I know you’re not just making all of this up?”

“What would I gain from lying like this?” He countered.

“I don’t know,” Altaira replied with a shrug, even though she could think of a couple, one being he was attempting to remove any possible rivals. “But you can’t expect me to just blindly follow you. I need proof.”

Mefune sighed. “I can’t give you proof. Not yet.” She shook her head, showing her disapproval of his reply. He looked up and met her gaze. “But if we get you on the Council, you’ll learn the truth of it yourself.”

Altaira considered this for a moment, surprised by the obvious offer in his words. _If he was simply trying to remove his enemies on the Council, why would he ask me to help him? We’ve always been rivals. It would be stupid of him to try and get rid of me like that, I would expect it._ Deciding she would go along with his plan at least long enough to find out if he was lying, she asked, “So what can we do to stop them? And how do you intend to get me on the Council?”

“We’ll have to remove those loyal to Samar ourselves,” Mefune told her. “Then with a little manipulation, it wouldn’t be hard to replace them with people loyal to us.”

This surprised Altaira, almost as much as Samar’s plan to use the Tarapor. “You mean kill them?” she asked warily

He stayed silent for a long time, eyeing her with that same, cold, calculating look. “If it comes to it,” he replied, his tone even. “But I mean to use other options first.” He fell silent, his dark gaze appraising. “Whatever ends up happening, are you willing to go through with this?”

Altaira’s brow furrowed, her mind going ninety miles an hour. “I’m willing to fight and die for the Brotherhood. It’s what I swore to do. And it’s not like I’m not capable. But I’m not sure I can…basically assassinate them,” she admitted.

 Mefune nodded, glancing away. “Neither am I,” he told her, but something about his tone made her doubt he meant it. “I just want you to understand what this might come to. We may not have any other choice. Better a handful of corrupt men fall than hundreds of innocents. If Samar has the chance to follow through with his plan, I doubt the Auraes would sit quietly by and allow him to get away with it. It could mean war.”

Noticing he had implied he feared the Auraes would attack in response to Samar’s threat twice, she couldn’t help but ask, “What makes you think they’d retaliate? It doesn’t seem like them.”

 “Things are changing among them as well. Mariea is gone, and her fill-in, Ila, is reckless. She wouldn’t hesitate to send forces after us, and then our friends would die too. You know we stand about as much a chance against their Magics as they do against the Tarapor.” He fell silent, as if allowing her time to process all this.

 “We can’t let it get to that point,” she stated, determined now. Even if it was all made up, Mefune had definitely found a way to rile her up.   

“I don’t intend to allow it to,” he reassured her. “If we can get most of the Council here on the island loyal to us, we would have an advantage over the others. They can’t do anything without Raidenya’s council members knowing, and I don’t think Samar will risk inner conflict. Once we have control here, we can take out Samar, and then move against his remaining allies in a more public way.”

Altaira felt a bit relieved, but she was still skeptical. “So how would we do this?” She asked.

“First we need allies,” he decided, getting down to business. “People who are willing to play the part, pretend to help Samar, and then help us take him down in the end. We can maneuver them onto the council one way or another, guaranteeing allies there for us. But we’ll need people we know for sure we can trust. We can’t have them converting to Samar’s cult last minute.”

            Immediately, Altaira thought of Daya. Mentioning her friend, she added, “She’s practically my sister. If I can’t trust her, I can’t trust anybody.” Mefune nodded, easily agreeing with this. Altaira was a bit surprised he seemed so willing to trust her judgment. Dismissing it, she asked, “Do you know of anyone?”

 “There is already one person on the Council I think will help us,” he informed her. “And obliviously there’s you. Other than that, not off the top of my head. I’ll think about it though.”

            Altaira nodded. “I guess until we think of others, we can start with the two of us,” she decided.

            Mefune agreed. “We should probably inform Daya,” he suggested.

            Considering the time of day, Altaira told him, “She’s probably home, we could talk to her.” With a nod of approval, he stood, and Altaira began leading them to her friend’s apartment. Altaira knocked on the door, and after a few minutes, Daya opened it.

            Daya greeted her and then looked to Mefune, her eyes widening in surprise. “Well, I guess you two don’t hate each other anymore.”

            “I never hated her,” Mefune countered, one eyebrow raised in surprise.

            Daya chuckled. “She definitely hated you,” she informed him. Turning to Altaira, she asked, “What happened?”

            “Well, I guess I decided he was worth keeping alive for something. I still hate him though,” Altaira joked.

Looking to Mefune, Daya chuckled. His gaze flicked between the two, looking slightly suspicious. “She’s not serious,” Daya pointed out.

“I figured,” Mefune agreed. “Though sometimes it’s hard to tell.” For a moment, Altaira wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, but then she noticed he had finally relaxed, a faint glimmer of humor in his gaze. It surprised her he was openly joking with them. Up until that point, she had seriously doubted he even had a sense of humor.

“Whatever,” she replied with a small smirk, pushing her surprise away. Sobering, she turned back to Daya and added, “We needed to talk.”

            The other woman smiled slightly, a mischievous glint in her eye. “You going to include me in your evil plans?”

            “Maybe,” Altaira confirmed slightly. “If you can handle it.”

            “Exciting,” Daya stated, backing away from the door a bit to open it wider. “Come in, I think we better discuss this inside.”

Beyond the door, Daya’s apartment had the same basic layout and furnishings as the other apartments in the Brotherhood headquarters—a couch near the back of the room with a coffee table before it and two chairs across from it, a small kitchenette in the corner complete with a small table, and a hall near the front door offering access to the single bedroom and restroom—but the considerable amount of clutter was a stark difference. It wasn’t as if Daya was a slob, but there was just the right amount of stuff scattered around to make it feel like someone actually called the place home. Daya was always tinkering with something, and evidence of her hobby lay amongst her belongings, as if she had forgotten about them mid-project. At first, the clutter had slightly bothered Altaira, but now she found it inviting.

            In the front room, the three claimed seats on the couch and chairs, Daya sitting across from Altaira and Mefune. “Altaira said we could trust you,” Mefune started, a warning edge to his voice. “This isn’t information I would care to hear repeated to anyone.”

            Understanding, Daya nodded. “I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

            Seeming satisfied, Mefune caught Altaira’s gaze and then began to fill in the details of the situation, Altaira adding bits where she felt necessary. Altaira noticed he was careful to leave out just how far he was willing to go to reach their goal, and she found herself a bit annoyed by that. _Daya probably wouldn’t like it though. She’d be reluctant to help us if that’s what she thought she would have to do,_ she realized silently.

As they finished, Daya slowly nodded. “I’d be fine with a spot on the Council,” she muttered.

“You’ll help us then?” Altaira asked, even though she already knew the answer. The other woman had long since committed to helping Altaira reach her goals, and would probably consider their plan a good option.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” Daya confirmed. After a pause, she suggested, “You should consider letting Desiree keep her place on the Council.”

“Why?” Mefune wondered, clearly curious.

“I know her. She’s a good person, and she’s noticed how corrupt the council has become. I’m certain she would easily agree to help us take down this madness, or at least agree not to hinder our efforts. I can speak to her,” Daya explained.

Mefune glanced at Altaira, who shrugged to indicate her approval. “That’ll make our job easier,” she told him. “So that makes three spots on the Council solidified here on Raidenya, soon to be five. It’s a good start.”

“It sounds like you have a plan for getting us on the council?” Daya half asked, half stated.

“I think he does,” Altaira stated, glancing at Mefune.

“The starting of one,” Mefune agreed. “With my position on the Council, I have access to everything—files, storage, records of any sort, you name it. A little digging in the old archives will no doubt unearth something we can use against the Council. And you both have the right to call in question any member of the council with the Aurae leaders. Samar can’t risk defying them without making them suspicious or angry, so he shouldn’t protest their involvement too loudly, at least not until it’s too late to stop us. I just have to find something we can use first.”

Daya nodded. “Keep me posted then,” she requested.

“It would probably be best if we don’t meet like this too often. It might draw attention,” Altaira cautioned. The other two nodded, obviously agreeing. With that, the three ended their meeting and planned to go their separate ways.

As Mefune left, Daya held Altaira back. She waited silently for him to disappear down the hall, and then she closed her door again, turning back to Altaira. “That went surprisingly well,” she mused.

“Yeah. I guess you were right,” Altaira agreed, albeit reluctantly. “Though I’m not sure I trust him yet. He had no proof of the council’s schemes, and I could see how he could be using us to his advantage.”

“So are you’re not going to help him?” Daya asked, sounding a bit confused.

“For now, I am. Just until I can validate everything he’s saying,” Altaira clarified.

Daya shrugged slightly as she said, “I don’t know, I think he’s telling the truth. He doesn’t need us to gain power, he’s proven that already. Why risk involving us?”

“That’s what I thought, but…”Altaira paused, her gaze flicking back to the door as she searched for the words to explain what she was feeling. “He just makes me nervous. Something about the look in his eyes when he considers others. I can’t help but feel like he only sees pawns in his game.”

“Maybe he’s just got a lot on his mind,” Daya muttered, sounding skeptical. “Obviously he seems to want what’s best for the Brotherhood.”

It was weird to Altaira just how much Daya was defending Mefune. _She didn’t see what I did, though,_ she thought. There had been times, throughout her years of training, where she had seen glimpses of something more to him that left her feeling unnerved—moments where he was exceptionally cruel or rude, or when he had taken a situation to his advantage without thinking twice of the consequences for others. Though those moments had been rare, it was hard not to hold them against him.

“Maybe you’re right,” she dismissed with a wave, deciding it wasn’t worth arguing over. She would just keep an eye on him on her own. “We’ll find out either way soon enough.”

            As Altaira left the Council room, she sighed, grateful the long report was over. Daya glanced at her, asking, “Man, was that just ridiculous, or what?”

            “Yeah,” Altaira grumbled reflecting over the patrol and the reprimand they had just survived. “If they require one more thing of us, I think I’m going to snap. It’s not like we’re _trying_ to aggravate the Auraes, but the Council seems to think otherwise.” As they talked, she directed them away from the rest of the group pouring from the Council room, wanting to be able to talk openly without anyone overhearing.

            Daya nodded. “The Council is paranoid. There hasn’t been Tarapor activity around the city for months. Why are they making us do so many patrols there, and why make them so complicated?” she complained.

            “It really has nothing to do with the Tarapor,” a new voice added, joining their conversation. The two women turned to look behind them. Altaira was only slightly surprised Garrett had followed him. _Good,_ she thought, _this must mean Mefune talked to him and he agreed to help us._ It had been almost two weeks since their last conversation, and she was beginning to wonder if they would ever make any progress.

            “Sorry to interrupt. Mefune wanted me to let you both know I’ll be joining your little meeting,” he announced, giving them both a sly grin.

            “He may have hinted at that,” Altaira agreed when Daya shot her a confused glance.

            “He conveniently left out the meeting location though. Said you two would get me there,” he added, looking only slightly bewildered.

            Atlaira shrugged slightly. “I guess follow us then,” she instructed, wondering not for the first time why Mefune did things the way he did.

Altaira lead them through the corridors, heading closer to the surface. Finally, she came to a simple metal door that led outside, the only direct exit from the underground base besides the main door. Slipping through, the three found themselves on a cliff overlooking the ocean. The small ledge was surrounded by trees, and moss grew over the rocks, mostly obscuring the door. Shrouded by the same magic as the front entrance, the opening was almost completely unrecognizable.

From the small outcropping, paths lead both down the cliff side and up around to the top of the hill, but they were hidden behind a pine tree that clung to the cliff side, its roots jutting outwards in many directions. Beyond the tree was a large drop off to the ocean below. Its waters were visible from the vantage point, the sun sparkling off the white caps far below.

            Mefune was already waiting for them there, leaning against the cliff wall near the far left edge. He glanced over his shoulder, smiling slightly when he saw the three.

Turning to them, he nodded in greeting and then his gaze rested on Garrett. “I’m glad you decided to join us,” Mefune stated.

The other man shrugged, saying, “I couldn’t stay out of the club anymore. You’re right, we can’t stand aside and do nothing.”

Mefune nodded. “It’s good to see you finally realized that,” he muttered, making Altaira wonder how long he had been working to convince Garrett to help them.

“So, you want to fill me in on the plan?” Garrett requested, obviously wanting to change the subject.

After a few minutes of explaining, he was caught up. Then, Altaira turned to Mefune and asked, “What was it that you wanted to meet about?”

 “I found something about one of the Council members, Ezequiel, that we can use to get him removed,” he informed her.

            “That’s the best news I’ve heard all week,” Daya stated, voicing Altaira’s thoughts.

            Mefune smiled slightly, obviously agreeing. “I’ve learned that Ezequiel paid his predecessor to elect him as his successor,” he informed the group. “We all know such a thing is forbidden. The Council was never supposed to be just for power. And, Alexander, the benefactor in this deal, left a journal behind with this information. When the Council found them after his death they confiscated the journal, but I found it buried in the archives.”

            “Ah, so that’s why you were nosing around in all those old files,” Garrett muttered, looking pleasantly surprised.

            “Just what we needed,” Altaira said with a smirk. “So how do we bring this up to the Auraes?”

            “You or Daya will have to travel to Verndale and inform Ila of what’s going on,” Mefune instructed. “It would be best if it wasn’t me or Garrett, so we don’t jeopardize our position on the Council.”

            _It would look too much like I was grasping for power if I delivered the message and then ended up on the Council,_ Altaira thought. Turning to her friend, she suggested, “It might be best if you do this.”

            Daya met her gaze and then nodded. “I could handle that,” she agreed.

            “And then it goes to a vote, right?” Garrett asked. Mefune nodded in confirmation.

            “Wait, it does?” Altaira exclaimed, surprised. “I thought the leader would be elected as usual.”

Mefune shook his head slightly. “The founders set it so it would go to a vote, so then the corrupt member of the Council wouldn’t have influence over his replacement, and so the Brotherhood as a whole could have a bit of redemption from whatever crimes were committed.” Then he shrugged. “At least, that’s how it’s supposed to happen. Who knows if Samar will actually follow the rules.”

“Between the two of us, I think we can encourage him to do so,” Garrett decided. “He wouldn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

“Besides, if he doesn’t, can’t we just use that to our advantage?” Daya mused, looking thoughtful. “We could just point out what he’s doing and bring him down, the same way we are with Ezequiel.”

The group seemed to consider this. “I…guess it is an option,” Mefune admitted, sounding slightly reluctant. “I feel going after Samar directly why he still has so many friends in power might be a reckless move…but we could at least consider the option if it arises.”

Daya nodded. After a pause, she asked, “How do we ensure one of us will get elected to replace Ezequiel?”

            Mefune sighed, looking uncertain as he folded his arms against his chest. “I guess we could tamper with the ballots.”

            “I don’t think that would work,” Garrett muttered with a slight shake of his head. “They’re too closely watched, and any inconsistency would cause a re-vote. It could lead to us getting caught. We can’t risk being charged with corruption while trying to fight the very same thing.”

            “Can we still challenge whoever gets voted in?” Altaira asked Mefune. He nodded in confirmation. “Then I’ll just do that then. With Daya going to Verndale, I won’t seem to be a part of this all,” Altaira offered. “It’ll seem natural since I challenged you. I’m obviously trying to get a spot on the Council.”

            Mefune seemed to like this idea. “And you’ll win whoever is chosen, that I’m sure of. Perfect.”

            As if she could tell they were ready to enact their plan, Daya announced, “I’ll head to Verndale then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The formatting on this website is a little interesting. I'm still playing around with it. Hopefully it isn't confusing. Let me know if there are any problems please!


End file.
